


Two hands longing

by notallballs (notallbees)



Series: Idle hands [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward First Times, Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Post-Canon, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:30:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: Surprising Oikawa was a difficult thing to do after nearly fifteen years of friendship, and Hajime was probably never going to surprise Oikawa more than by kissing him that first time, but he was willing to try.Things aren't always easy, even after you get what you want, and even the sturdiest friendship can be tested when you bring sex into the picture.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did say I'd be back with more :3 Title from [Still, by Daughter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUWrcFpmI5U)
> 
>    
> Thank you to mousecat for cheerleading and to helwolves and minyrrds for betaing!

It had been more than two weeks since Hajime last saw Oikawa. With homework, regular practices, and the college volleyball season in full swing, there really wasn’t a lot of time left for travelling back and forth to visit. 

Volleyball in particular had been taking up a lot of Hajime's mental energy, and Wednesday’s practice was more tiring than usual. He put it down to the fact that he hadn’t been sleeping well all week, but it didn’t make him feel better. He knew his times were down, that he was holding up the rest of his team by backsliding. 

As he left practice, Coach Ishigawa caught his eye, and it was clear from his expression that another performance like that would result in a talking to. Hajime collected his things without dallying, and extricated himself from the team’s friendly chatter. 

It wasn’t until he collapsed onto his bed later that he remembered to check his phone. Oikawa had texted him ten or twelve times while he was busy, and Hajime found himself grinning fondly as he scrolled through the nonsense. 

It was a struggle to make himself get up and eat, but he hadn’t had a proper meal all day, so there was no putting it off. He texted Oikawa a picture of his meal-in-progress, giving a cursory response to his last message, and waited for the indignant replies to pour in. 

oikawa: Iwa-chan is that your dinner  
oikawa: do you even remember what vegetables are  
oikawa: and you didn't answer my question  
oikawa: questions!  
oikawa: do you have homework? Can we talk later?  
oikawa: it's been ages

Hajime read each text as it came through, smiling at his phone. Moving from friends to _more_ hadn't been as much of a climatic shift as he might have expected. He and Oikawa still bickered daily, and talked for hours without saying much. On the rare occasions they'd actually been able to hang out in person, the only real change was that Hajime didn't have to stop at a hand on Oikawa's shoulder, or cut a hug short to make sure it stayed the right side of platonic. He could touch Oikawa as much as he liked, and the really amazing part was that Oikawa liked it too. 

When he'd finished his cobbled-together meal, and forced himself to take a bath and unwind, Hajime changed into a ratty old shirt and sat on his bed to call Oikawa.

_“Iwa-chan, it's about time!”_

“Yeah,” Hajime said, feeling indulgent. “I missed you too.”

Oikawa's voice softened. _“I did miss you today. I saw something that reminded me of you—”_

Hajime listened quietly while Oikawa told his rambling story. He wondered if Oikawa would read to him sometime if he asked, and then he wondered if he could ever bring himself to ask.

 _“Are you alright?”_ Oikawa asked after a little while. _"You're quiet."_

“Mm. Just tired from practice.”

Oikawa tutted. _“You're not sleeping enough.”_

“I'm sleeping fine, don't mother me.”

 _“Someone should,”_ Oikawa said, sighing. He was quiet for several moments, and when he spoke again his tone was lighter, more playful. _“I hope you’re ready to lose on Friday.”_

Hajime laughed under his breath. “Right,” he said, flopping back on his bed. “Because that’s what’ll happen.”

 _“What was that noise?”_ Oikawa asked, going seamlessly from playful to suspicious. 

“What noise?”

Oikawa huffed at him. _“You made a funny sound just then. Like a—was it a sigh? Iwa-chan, did you sigh at me?”_

“Oh my god,” Hajime said, smothering a laugh with his shoulder. “Oikawa, you idiot, I just lay down.”

 _“Ohh.”_ There was something calculating in Oikawa’s tone that Hajime didn’t like. 

“What’s _ohh_?” he asked, rolling to face the ceiling. 

Oikawa made a dismissive noise. _“I don’t know what you mean.”_

Getting anything out of Oikawa when he didn't feel like talking was a lesson in patience, so Hajime settled for rolling his eyes. It made him feel better, even if Oikawa couldn't see him. “Sure. Whatever. Change the subject as many times as you want, I’m still going to kick your ass on Friday.”

_“Whatever you say, Iwa-chan. Ooh, did Mama text you?”_

They talked quietly for a few minutes, about home and university, gently trading insults to avoid talking about their feelings. Oikawa had turned out to be predictably terrible at it, too used to keeping his thoughts and feelings under wraps, but Hajime appreciated that he was trying. 

His thoughts started to wander and he let Oikawa keep talking while he drifted. Oikawa was reciting some anecdote from one of his lab classes, but he was obviously getting tired because his voice was soft and even. When Hajime closed his eyes, he could imagine Oikawa lying next to him, listening to his voice rumble low in his throat. The whole thing had the unfortunate effect of turning Hajime on, which he probably should have expected if he was going to start imagining Oikawa in bed with him. 

Oikawa reached the end of his story just as Hajime reached down to adjust himself through his pyjama pants. 

_“Iwa-chan?”_

“Hey,” Hajime said, a little slow to respond.

The line was silent for a moment. _“You weren’t listening,”_ Oikawa said, but he sounded curious rather than annoyed. 

“You talk too much,” Hajime lied, gripping himself loosely through his clothes. If they hung up soon, he still had time to get himself off before he went to sleep. 

_“So talk to me,”_ Oikawa said softly. _“What're you doing tomorrow?”_

Hajime sighed heavily. “I already told you earlier,” he replied, a little impatient. “Practice, lectures, then I'm meeting some classmates at the library to work on our group project.”

Oikawa was quiet. Hajime could hear him breathing loudly against the phone.

“Oikawa?”

_“Tell me more.”_

The sound of Oikawa's voice made him hesitate. It was high, a little breathless. Hajime stroked himself through his pyjamas again, closing his eyes to picture Oikawa. He would be in bed too, his sheets probably unwashed and smelling strongly of him. Hajime imagined that Oikawa hadn't showered, that he was still sweaty from practice. 

He pictured the way Oikawa picked at his breakfast: eating rice with his fingers, reaching over to steal a mouthful from Hajime. Without meaning to, he remembered the soft thrill of Oikawa's mouth, the sensation of biting his full lower lip when they kissed. 

_“Iwa-chan?”_ Oikawa murmured, sounding undeniably out of breath now. 

Hajime slipped his hand inside his pyjama pants and stifled a groan as he took hold of himself. While he touched himself cautiously, he cast about for something to talk about. “My professor is really bad at giving lectures,” he said in desperation, trying to keep his voice steady as he began to stroke himself slowly. “She's really interesting, but she goes off topic all the time, tells us funny stories and stuff.”

Oikawa groaned. _“Iwa-chan—”_ He trailed off, filling the silence with a long, breathy sigh instead. 

Once, during a sleepover, Hajime had just fallen asleep when he was woken by a soft rustling from Oikawa's bed. Hajime could remember holding his breath, straining to hear any tiny hint of a sound. The faint rhythmic movements and the sound of Oikawa's muffled groan when he came had fueled Hajime's fantasies for a long time. 

_“Iwa-chan,”_ Oikawa said again. And then, lower, _“Hajime...are you—”_

“Yeah,” Hajime muttered, moving his hand faster. 

_“Good,”_ Oikawa said, laughing a little. _“That's good, I want to hear you.”_

Hajime groaned. There was something intoxicating about knowing that Oikawa wanted him, even if it was still a little hard to believe. Although Hajime had spent plenty of time fantasising about Oikawa, those fantasies felt different now that the real thing was within his grasp. 

"Why—why d'you want to hear me?" he mumbled, his face getting hot. 

_"You know why,"_ Oikawa said. His low voice slithered down Hajime's spine. _"I want you to feel good. I want to make you feel good—"_

" _Oikawa_ ," Hajime muttered, in general protest. 

Oikawa laughed, the edges of it rough. _"You don't think I'm some kind of monk, do you? Of course I want to do these things with you."_

Hajime groaned, half in pleasure, half in mortification. 

_"Touch yourself for me, Hajime."_

Heart pounding, Hajime dropped his phone and wrestled his pyjama pants to his knees so that he could kick them off completely. Scrambling to bring the phone back to his ear, he heard Oikawa's heavy breathing on the other end, and he closed his eyes to appreciate the sound more clearly. 

_"Are you still there?"_ Oikawa gasped. _"Iwa-chan—"_

Hajime swallowed, finding his throat dry. "I'm here," he said, and was mortified when his voice cracked. He gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the mattress, pushing up into the hot grasp of his fingers. He imagined it was Oikawa touching him, the way his mouth might feel. Hajime had pictured that more times than he would've liked to admit. 

_"Tell me what you're thinking,"_ Oikawa said quietly. 

"Ah—" Hajime murmured. He bit his lip and jerked himself a little faster. "I—I was thinking about—kissing you."

Oikawa's laughter was breathless, and he chased it with another low groan. _"Just kissing?"_

Hajime's whole face burned. "No," he admitted. "I—was thinking about you, uh—sucking me off."

 _"You want me to suck your cock, Hajime?"_ Oikawa asked without missing a beat, his voice trailing into a quiet moan. Hajime realised with a start that he was going to come soon from listening to Oikawa's voice. 

"Tooru—"

 _"I want that,"_ Oikawa continued. _"I want to suck your cock—"_

"Fuck—"

_"Make you feel really good—"_

Hajime rolled his hips, pleasure coursing through him. He threw his head back as he came, a thin, high-pitched noise escaping him as he tried to stifle the sound he made. "Hnn, Tooru—"

_"Iwa—mm, hah—"_

Hajime clutched his phone tighter. Oikawa's breathing was heavy in his ear, and Hajime heard him grunt low in his throat before letting out a long, slow breath. Hajime felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to hang up the phone. Oikawa wouldn't be able to let this go without saying something, but Hajime couldn't bear to hear it if Oikawa was going to treat it as a joke.

"Hey," he ventured after a minute, when Oikawa's breathing had begun to slow. 

_"Iwa-chan,"_ Oikawa said in a dreamy voice. _"That was...unexpected."_

Hajime winced. "Yeah. Sorry."

Oikawa laughed quietly. _"What for?"_

"Didn't really...mean for that to happen," Hajime muttered, turning his head to look for the box of tissues by his bed. He started to clean himself up, wincing when he realised he'd gotten his t-shirt dirty. 

_"Well,"_ Oikawa said slowly. _"It's not like I minded."_

Hajime rolled his eyes. "Yeah, still."

Oikawa started to say something but his words were interrupted by a huge yawn. 

"You should sleep," Hajime said, stifling a yawn of his own. " _I_ should sleep."

 _"Mm,"_ Oikawa hummed. _"'Kay."_

"Text you tomorrow."

 _"Mmkay,"_ Oikawa said in a sleepy voice. _"But it was okay, yeah?"_

"Go to sleep, idiot."

Oikawa snickered. _"Ru—ude,"_ he sing-songed. _"Night."_

Hajime ended the call before Oikawa remembered to press him for an answer. He felt odd and uncomfortable now that the call was over, and the afterglow beginning to fade. 

They hadn't really talked about sex yet. Every time they made out, they pulled away before things got too heavy. Hajime had never jerked off so much as he did after Oikawa's sporadic visits. 

Sighing, Hajime plugged his phone in to charge and got into bed. Before falling asleep, he put on some music to drown out the memory of Oikawa offering to go down on him. He had a feeling those words were going to be burned into his memory for some time. 

 

 

oikawa: good morning iwa-chan ♡＼(￣▽￣)／♡  
oikawa: I hope you slept well after our conversation  
oikawa: (//▽//)  
oikawa: I can't wait to see you tomorrow  
oikawa: maybe we can pick up where we left off last night ☆⌒(≧▽° )

Hajime put his phone away with a quiet groan. A practice tournament had been scheduled for the following day between four university teams, including his and Oikawa's. Oikawa hadn't stopped talking about it for two weeks, about all the things they would do while Hajime stayed with him, as if they weren't going to spend half the weekend catching up on their homework. 

He felt uneasy about ignoring Oikawa's messages, but he didn't know how to talk about what had happened between them until he knew how he felt about it. As for how he felt—Hajime wished there was someone he could talk it over with, but there was nobody he trusted with something this private aside from Oikawa.

After much agonising, he took out his phone again and texted Matsukawa.

hajime: have you ever had phone sex  
mattsun: Is that an invitation? I'm flattered  
hajime: like maybe with someone who's a friend  
hajime: and you didn't really mean to  
hajime: shut up no ofc it's not an invitation  
mattsun: This sounds like a very specific scenario…  
mattsun: Something happen?  
hajime: no  
hajime: i don't wanna talk about it  
mattsun: Pick one to keep.  
mattsun: Alright, look. Say something happened between you and a friend, do you want it to go further?  
hajime: yes  
mattsun: Well then  
hajime: but  
hajime: not yet? it feels too soon  
mattsun: So take it slow. Tell them you had fun, you like them, but you want to go back to moving slowly.  
hajime: ok yeh  
hajime: thanks

It wasn't until Hajime was on his way to practice that afternoon that he remembered to text Oikawa back. He sent something friendly and dismissive, hoping it would allow him to postpone talking about last night for a little longer. 

Practice wasn't too intensive, taking into account the fact that they had practice matches the following day. Hajime managed not to disgrace himself the way he had the day before, and Coach Ishigawa's approving smile gave Hajime the courage to go up to him at the end of practice to ask a favour.

 

 

Surprising Oikawa was a difficult thing to do after nearly fifteen years of friendship, and Hajime was probably never going to surprise Oikawa more than by kissing him that first time, but he was willing to try. 

The walk from the train station wasn’t long, and he reached the door to Oikawa's building just after nine thirty. Hajime dug the spare set of keys out of his pocket and let himself in. Other students passed him on the stairs, heading out to classes. One girl smiled and wished him good morning, and Hajime gave her a tired smile in response. He’d already been up for three hours; if Oikawa had even left his bed yet, it would be a small miracle. 

Oikawa's hallway was quiet, except for the muffled sound of a radio station playing in one of the apartments. Hajime took a deep breath before letting himself in. 

“Sorry for intruding,” he said, but not too loudly, as he shut the door behind him and slipped off his trainers. The apartment was quiet, but Oikawa’s bedroom door was closed, so the chances of him being there seemed good. 

Hajime shrugged out of his backpack and his jacket and threw them onto the couch. “Oikawa,” he called out quietly as he tugged his hoodie over his head. “It's me.”

There was no reply, but Hajime hadn't particularly expected one. He pushed open the bedroom door and inhaled deeply, feeling dizzy with the rush of nostalgia and affection at the familiar scent. Oikawa appeared to be fast asleep, his back turned toward the door and the sheets kicked halfway off. The room was dark, but Hajime studied Oikawa in the light that came from the doorway behind him. He was shirtless, but the sheets dipped down just low enough to reveal that he was wearing pyjama bottoms at least. 

Hajime smiled and carefully closed the door behind him. He had clearly arrived too early for Oikawa to start his ritual cleanup; there were clothes and textbooks strewn across the floor, empty plates and takeaway boxes piled up, and a drift of used tissues on the floor by the wastepaper bin. It was disgusting, and so charmingly familiar that Hajime’s heart seized happily in his chest.

Oikawa turned over a little way in his sleep at the sound of the door closing. “Hm—me?” he murmured.

Hajime’s breath caught. He quickly wriggled out of his jeans and socks before crossing the room carefully, avoiding piles of clothes and scattered magazines. Having traversed the room safely, he put one knee on the edge of the bed and leaned over. Oikawa’s back was cold to the touch, and he shivered slightly when Hajime wrapped warm fingers around his shoulder. 

“Hey, candyfloss,” Hajime whispered, crawling in behind him and pulling the sheets up over them both. 

“Haji—” Oikawa sighed, relaxing back against him. 

Hajime wrapped an arm around his waist and nuzzled his face into the back of Oikawa’s neck, nosing at the soft, fine hairs there. Oikawa’s thighs were warm through his pyjamas, and Hajime pressed his own cold legs up against Oikawa.

“‘s cold,” Oikawa grumbled, shivering for a moment. It was clear that he was still more asleep than awake, and Hajime had no doubt that all hell would break loose as soon as he woke up and realised that Hajime had betrayed him by showing up early, but for now he was soft and warm and perfect. 

 

Hajime woke again a little later, unaware at first that he’d even fallen asleep. It seemed Oikawa had woken him, trying to turn over in the tiny space available with the two of them crammed together on the bed. They both came awake slowly, face to face, Oikawa blinking in confusion. 

“Iwa-chan,” he murmured, frowning. He was a little cross eyed from the effort of trying to look at Hajime so close up. 

Hajime leaned in to kiss his nose and was rewarded with the sight of Oikawa looking even more cross eyed and confused. “Hey.” Hajime let his eyes roam over Oikawa's face, taking in his wide, dark eyes, the slope of his nose, his delicate mouth. He had no idea when he'd first started finding Oikawa attractive, or why he'd decided to kiss him when he had. Sometimes he was still amazed at himself for doing it at all. 

Oikawa stared back at him, his expression curious. He reached up suddenly to grab Hajime's chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head one way and then the other and squinting at him

“Oi—the fuck are you doing?” Hajime snarled, batting him away.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasped, eyes widening again. “You're here!” 

Hajime sighed and flopped back into the pillow. “Obviously.”

“No!” Oikawa yelped, sitting up suddenly. “Oh no! Did I oversleep? Is it that late?”

“Calm down, idiot,” Hajime said, grabbing his shoulder and tugging him back down. Oikawa bounced slightly against the mattress before settling and turning to face Hajime. “It’s only, uh…” Hajime turned to peer at Oikawa's alarm clock over his shoulder. “It's only ten thirty. I came early, that's all.”

“Cheater,” Oikawa said softly, looking awed. He blinked a couple of times and then turned over with a groan to bury his face in the pillow. “Iwa-chan, that's so mean. I didn't have time to get ready, I'm a _mess_.”

“Stupid,” Hajime murmured, rolling over to plaster himself along Oikawa's left side. “I like you this way.”

Oikawa groaned again. “What,” he said in a sullen voice. “Unwashed and disgusting?”

With a soft, pleased hum, Hajime shuffled down and nuzzled his face into Oikawa's armpit despite the danger. “Yup,” he said happily. 

Oikawa squawked and tried to roll away, but Hajime wrapped a heavy arm around his waist and held him tight, enjoying the sensation of Oikawa's bare chest again his skin. When Oikawa made another attempt to wriggle free, Hajime threw a leg over his thighs and trapped him further.

“Iwa—a,” Oikawa whined, drawing his name out. “I stink.”

Hajime grinned and hummed softly in agreement. Oikawa did kind of stink; presumably he'd been to practice the night before, or for a run, and then gone to bed without taking a bath first. His room was a mess, his sheets probably hadn't been changed since the last time they saw one another, and he smelled like a locker room. Hajime liked him so much he wanted to throw up. 

“Iwa-chan isn't very clever,” Oikawa said in a low voice, the pillow muffling his words slightly. “What's the point of showing up like this?”

Hajime drew back slightly, releasing Oikawa from his deathgrip. “What's the matter with you? Didn't you want to see me?”

“Of course I do!” Oikawa wailed, lifting his head from the pillow. “I just—I wanted to look _nice_ for my Iwa-chan.”

“And I told you,” Hajime said, rolling closer again with a smile. “I like you this way.”

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa murmured, letting Hajime press their foreheads together, then closing his eyes with a sigh. His breath was terrible; Hajime just grinned and shuffled closer. “You're only being so nice because you're still half asleep," Oikawa accused.

“You'd better think up some new ways to put me in a good mood then, hadn't you?”

When Oikawa didn’t respond for several long moments, Hajime opened his eyes to check that he hadn't gone back to sleep. Instead, Oikawa was watching him carefully, his gaze heavy and guarded. 

“What is it?” Hajime asked, feeling slightly self-conscious. He was well used to Oikawa’s intense stares—they were one of Hajime's favourite things about him, not that he’d admit it to Oikawa’s face—but usually they were directed at other people. 

Oikawa's eyes narrowed slightly, a sure sign that he was scheming, and then he drew in a deep breath and leaned closer.

“Oika—”

Hajime fell silent as Oikawa interrupted him with a kiss. 

Morning breath or no, Hajime loved kissing Oikawa. Even from that wonderful, awful, soul-crushing first time on Oikawa’s couch; even when he thought Oikawa couldn’t like him back, Hajime would’ve been happy just getting to kiss him once. 

Well, maybe not _happy_ , but he would have survived. 

Oikawa pulled away again, just enough to let him breathe, and Hajime blinked. 

“Alright,” he said, finding himself embarrassingly out of breath. “That works.” 

“Good,” Oikawa said shortly, before leaning in again. 

They kissed slowly, melting into the mess of Oikawa's bed together. Hajime reached up to cup the back of Oikawa's neck, tilting the kiss slightly before pushing his fingers into Oikawa's hair. He could never stop himself touching it when they kissed. It was soft and thick, and he could make Oikawa moan just by tugging it in the right way. When he was alone he thought about pulling Oikawa around more, or holding his head down; he thought about Oikawa going down on him, Hajime's fingers in his hair. The image popped into his head now and he carefully pushed it away, trying to keep his thoughts as chaste as was possible with Oikawa warm and pliant and almost-naked beside him. 

“Hey,” Oikawa murmured against his mouth. 

“Mm?”

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Hajime found himself blushing, and he shifted his hips away from Oikawa's. “Just this,” he said, moving in for another kiss. Oikawa turned his head at the last moment.

“You're thinking about something dirty,” he said with quiet glee. Hajime pretended that it had been his intention to kiss Oikawa's earlobe. “Tell me.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Iwa—a.”

“Really, it's nothing.”

Oikawa made a disgruntled sound before wriggling closer. “You can’t keep secrets around me,” he said in a voice that was possibly meant to sound sultry. It just sounded ridiculous, but the huskiness of it also made Hajime shiver. 

“It’s pretty obvious that I can,” he said without thinking, “given how long it took you to work out I liked you.”

He didn’t realise what he’d said until Oikawa tensed in his arms. “Iwa-chan—”

“Don’t,” Hajime said quickly. “Let’s go back to kissing.”

“Just kissing?” Oikawa teased.

Hajime didn’t reply. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sighed against his cheek. His breath warmed the side of Hajime's neck, making him shudder pleasantly. With a pleased hum, Oikawa slid his hand down Hajime's back and tucked his fingertips into the waistband of Hajime's underwear. “I missed you,” Oikawa moaned, pressing closer to him. 

Hajime shuddered again, his own breath coming out harsh and heavy. "Oikawa—"

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since the other night," Oikawa murmured. He slipped his fingers into Hajime's underwear, cupping his ass firmly to tug him closer. "I've jerked off so much this week."

"How romantic," Hajime muttered, reaching back to extract Oikawa's hand from his underwear. "Come on, I didn't get up early just for you to laze around in bed."

Oikawa slung his leg over Hajime's, preventing his escape. "I'm sure we can think of something more _active_ to do in my bed."

Hajime's laughter was brief and uncomfortable. "Maybe later, let's go out somewhere. Aren't you hungry?"

"Aren't _you_?" Oikawa demanded, pulling their hips together. 

"Come on," Hajime said, laughing. "Let's talk about this later, I'm starving."

Oikawa whined, but gave no further protest as Hajime wriggled out from under him and flopped onto the floor. He got to his feet and gave Oikawa's arm a sharp tug. "Come on, you get up too."

"Fine, fine," Oikawa groused. He kicked back the covers and stomped across the room. His foot skidded on a discarded magazine, but he somehow managed not to fall, and turned to glare over his shoulder when Hajime failed to smother his snort of amusement. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd shown up when you were supposed to."

Hajime felt a little twinge of annoyance. "What, are you actually annoyed that I'm here early?"

"No, no," Oikawa sighed, waving his hand. "I'm going to take a shower."

"You got any food?" Hajime called out as Oikawa disappeared into the bathroom. 

Oikawa replied with an unintelligible grunt, which wasn't promising, but Hajime went to check the kitchen just in case, if only to distract himself from what had almost just happened. 

 

 

When Oikawa was clean and dressed, and Hajime had given up on trying to make a balanced meal out of the pathetic contents of Oikawa's kitchen, they left the house to find themselves a lazy breakfast. 

They spent the day traipsing around while Oikawa hunted for a new coat, or possibly a new pair of trainers—Hajime wasn't really listening. He was caught up in thinking about waking up with Oikawa that morning, and how much he'd wanted to let things progress. The idea of it made him shiver in anticipation, but he was still getting used to their relationship changing. He wanted Oikawa, but he didn't want things to change. 

When Oikawa had given up on whatever it was he'd wanted to buy, they went back to the little supermarket near his apartment and bought some ingredients for dinner. It was nothing they hadn't done before, as friends, but the domesticity of it made Hajime helpless with affection for Oikawa. When, on their way home, Oikawa took his hand, Hajime didn't pull away. 

Back at Oikawa's apartment, they put away the groceries, then Oikawa filled the rice cooker for their dinner. 

"Hey, can I use your laptop?" Hajime asked, slipping off his hoodie as he walked over to the couch. "I forgot to charge my phone."

"Mmm," Oikawa hummed, only half listening. 

Hajime dumped his hoodie on the back of the couch and settled down with Oikawa's computer on his lap. He had only intended to check the results of the wrestling match he'd been too busy to watch the night before, but when he opened the browser, it jumped straight to the last tab Oikawa had been using. 

As soon as Hajime realised what he was looking at, he snapped the laptop shut again, his ears starting to burn. Realistically, he knew that Oikawa looked at porn. They had looked at it together more than once, mostly when they were a lot younger. Hajime had never been able to understand back then why Oikawa was fascinated by naked women and he wasn't. 

Glancing over into the kitchen, he saw that Oikawa was still busy, his back turned to Hajime. Cautiously, Hajime opened the laptop again. 

_*GAY* hung football jock 1st time rimming + BLOWJOB w/ cumdump_

Hajime checked that the volume was turned down, then moused over and restarted the video. He watched for about thirty seconds, picturing Oikawa sitting there last night doing the same thing, his hands in his pyjama pants, maybe thinking of Hajime while he touched himself—

"Iwa-chan!" 

For the second time in as many minutes, Hajime slammed the laptop closed. "Yeah?" he said, putting the computer aside and willing his blush to fade.

"I have to go to library, want to come?"

Hajime swallowed. "Yeah, I'll be right there."

 

 

By the time they returned again, it was almost time to leave for the practice matches. They changed and walked to the gym in their workout clothes, and said goodbye at the entrance so that Hajime could go and find his team. 

"Good luck, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said, holding out his fist for Hajime to bump.

Hajime did so, grinning. "Keep your luck, you'll need it."

His teammates were just filing into the locker room when he arrived, and Nakehara greeted him with a warm smile. 

"Just in time, Iwaizumi-kun," he said, throwing a friendly arm around Hajime's shoulders. "Have fun with your girlfriend?"

"Friend," Hajime corrected, as he was herded into the locker room. "He's not gonna be so fun after we kick his ass."

"Maybe we should go easy on him then," Nakehara said thoughtfully.

"Go easy on who?" someone else called out. 

"Iwaizumi's friend."

"Oh, yeah! You know that kid on the team here, right?"

Their interest waned quickly, and Hajime retreated into a corner to swap his sweatpants for his volleyball shorts. The tension he had felt between himself and Oikawa all day hadn't faded, but he felt it again now, shifting into anticipation for the game instead. 

As soon as they stepped out onto the court, the air felt electric. Hajime didn't even have to look to know that Oikawa's eyes were on him, so he forced himself not to. He clapped one of his teammates on the shoulder and made a joke that got them laughing, even though he could feel Oikawa's stare burning between his shoulder blades, and he wanted to turn so badly that he could feel it wring his insides like a damp cloth. Hajime made it all the way to the bench without turning around, where he picked up a water bottle and popped open the spigot with his teeth. He took a sip—not too much, he didn't want to have to pee halfway through the game—and then he turned to look for Oikawa. 

A shudder passed through him when their eyes met. Oikawa stood at the other side of the court, his shoulders back, one hand propped on his hip. He was turned side on, nodding while one of his teammates talked to him, but his eyes were fixed on Hajime. When he saw Hajime notice him, a slow grin spread across his face, absolutely nothing soft about it. It was the same way he looked at every opponent he faced, thrilled with the excitement of competition, with the potential for destruction. Hajime's thoughts turned without warning to the way Oikawa had looked that morning; the heavy, challenging look in his eyes when he tried to slip his hands into Hajime's underwear. Hajime was struck with a brief, startlingly vivid image of Oikawa crouched over him, pinning him down, staring at him the way he was now.

"Hey," said their libero, Ikesuga, as Hajime turned away, his face flushing. "You okay, man?"

Hajime took another swig of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. "Yeah," he said, looking back at Oikawa. "Let's destroy them."

 

 

Two sets in, Hajime was starting to feel the burn in his calves. He was subbed in halfway through the first set, when Mashita went down with a suspected ankle sprain, and he'd had a brief flash of guilt about getting onto the court before Oikawa. Oikawa's team had a third year setter who'd been a first string player since his first year. He was integrated well into the team’s dynamic, but even after watching him for only a few plays, it was clear to Hajime that he wasn't as good as Oikawa. Even so, Oikawa's team had taken the first set, while Hajime's team had narrowly taken the second. 

When Hajime paused to rehydrate and catch his breath after the second set, he glanced over at the other team. Oikawa was standing with his back turned, which gave Hajime the opportunity to look without feeling self-conscious. Hajime was already sweaty from playing the past set, but Oikawa, of course, looked pristine. He hoped Oikawa would get a chance to play even if just so that Hajime could enjoy him being sweaty and gross later on. 

As luck would have it, Hajime's team managed to pull an early advantage in the third set, reaching ten points while Oikawa's team still languished on four. Their rotation changed, bringing their setter round to serve; even before Hajime got on the court, it had been clear that his serves weren't on a par with the rest of his skills. Sure enough, before he could take his place, the whistle blew and Oikawa stepped in to trade places with him. Hajime watched Oikawa through the net. He took his time getting ready, and Hajime recognised that icy focus that he knew so well. Someone tossed Oikawa a ball, and he raised it with one hand; with the other, he lifted his hand and pointed straight at Hajime. 

Hajime grinned back at him. "Game on," he mouthed across the court, and watched Oikawa's eyes light up.

The whistle blew, and Oikawa tossed the ball into the air, the flick of his wrist effortless. Hajime watched his run up, every movement familiar. He bent his knees, ready to move when he saw where Oikawa would hit the ball. 

Oikawa jumped, and Hajime's breath caught in his chest. He heard the smack of Oikawa's hand on the ball. It was coming for Hajime's left side; Oikawa was aiming for the line, knowing that Hajime was weak on receiving on that side. He dove; the ball slammed off the side of his forearm and went wide. 

"Don't mind!" his team captain yelled, and someone slapped Hajime's shoulder as he straightened up. 

Hajime looked across the court at Oikawa, who looked as pleased as if he'd just scored the winning point of the match. He put his hand on his hip, and then lifted his other hand to blow Hajime a kiss. Hajime mimed spiking it back at him and Oikawa laughed.

"Oi," one of Oikawa's teammates yelled. "Save it for after the game."

Oikawa's face fell, and he made a quick apology, but even from this far away Hajime could tell that his contrition was forced; he wondered if the one who'd spoken up was the same guy who'd given Oikawa trouble before, the guy who'd implied that Oikawa wasn't a good fit for the team because of his interest in men. The guy looked round, and Hajime tore his gaze away to look at Oikawa instead, who gave Hajime a brief, warning look before turning away and asking for another ball. 

Right, the game. Hajime shrugged off an anxious enquiry from his captain and dropped into position again, his arms held loosely in front of him. Oikawa raised the ball and took a deep breath. 

Again, Oikawa aimed at the outside line, but this time Hajime was ready for him; he dug in and caught the ball on an awkward course that sent it to the other side of the court, where it was picked up by one of their blockers. 

"Left!" Hajime yelled, scrambling to get into position for his approach. He could already see his opening; the other team weren't expecting him to come back so fast after receiving one of Oikawa's insane serves. 

Their setter tossed while Hajime prepared to jump, but as he brought his arm back to swing, he saw one of the blockers move into his line of sight, and over their shoulder he caught a blurred glimpse of Oikawa in the second before he hit the ball. It bounced off the blocker’s fingers, and was received by their libero who sent it straight to Oikawa. Despite having barely found his feet, Hajime hurried back to find his place at the back of the court. He recognised Oikawa's movements, and realised too late that he'd made a mistake.

"Forward!" he yelled, as Oikawa switched hands and dumped the ball over the net. Their libero dove for the ball, managing to send it backwards by the skin of his teeth. Nakehara stepped under the ball and tossed it back to their setter. Hajime ran forward again, leapt into the air and swung for the ball. It glanced past Oikawa, clipping the sleeve of his jersey, and slammed into the floor behind him. 

Hajime landed, and Oikawa straightened up, a terrifying smile on his face. "Nice kill, Hajime," he said, his eyes alight.

Hajime felt a shudder roll through him. He squared his shoulders and nodded. "You're not the only one who knows how to read a play," he said, before turning to acknowledge his captain's order for the next serve. 

The game continued in much the same vein. Hajime was surprised and pleased that Oikawa wasn't switched out again despite only gaining his team one service ace, but it soon became obvious why he had been permitted to stay on the court. The two sets Oikawa had spent observing the game had allowed him to take stock of Hajime's team, which coupled with his prior knowledge of Hajime's own skills and technique, gave him an undeniable advantage. They quickly closed the points gap, bringing both teams to twelve points at the same time.

But if Oikawa knew how to read a match, Hajime knew how to read Oikawa. Their teams exchanged points without much difference until they reached twenty, when it became Oikawa's turn to serve once more. Hajime was at the front of the court this time, so the chances of Oikawa serving to him again were slim, but he held himself ready just in case. 

After a slow run-up, Oikawa served to the back corner, the same place he had served to Hajime. 

"Out!" Ikesuga called, sidestepping the ball. It bounced right on the line, and everyone held their breath. The referee declared the ball safe, and Ikesuga swore loudly. 

Hajime couldn't help grinning, annoying though it was to see Oikawa use these familiar tricks against him. He looked back at Oikawa, and was struck by the ferocity of his expression. 

"He's going to do that again," he said to his teammates, his eyes still on Oikawa's face. "He'll keep going until we break."

"Then we won't break," said Hajime's captain, Fukuhara. 

"Is that guy really a first year?" Ikesuga grumbled. 

The whistle blew again, and Hajime dropped into position once more. 

Oikawa took five straight points, even when Coach Ishigawa called a timeout after the second, clinching the set for his team. They crowded around Oikawa as the final whistle blew, ruffling his sweaty hair and laughing. Hajime watched them, his chest full.

"Alright," said Fukuhara, clapping his hands. "Water break. We'll be playing the other team in a few minutes. Everyone make sure you rehydrate."

They traipsed off the court, and Nakehara threw his arm around Hajime's shoulders. "Yo, Iwaizumi-kun, that pinch server is your buddy, right? You used to play together?"

Hajime nodded. "Yeah, we've been on the same team since we were kids."

"Scary," Ikesuga said at Hajime's other side. He gave an exaggerated shiver and looked over his shoulder at Oikawa. "Must be weird playing against him."

Hajime just shrugged. "Anyone know how Mashita's doing?"

They chatted a little as they retrieved their water bottles and used their jerseys to wipe off their excess sweat. Hajime realised after a minute that he needed to pee after all, and as he headed for the doors to the locker room, Coach Ishigawa caught him by the sleeve.

"Coach, hey—"

"Good game today, Iwaizumi," Ishigawa said, giving him a stern look. "Let's see more of that energy, okay?" He patted Hajime's shoulder. "Less distractions."

Hajime thought of Oikawa blowing him a kiss midway through the match, and wondered if he was getting a talking to of his own. "Yes, Coach," Hajime said, his jaw tight.

Alone in the bathroom, Hajime took a leak and then went to wash his hands and splash water on his face and neck. The door opened as he straightened up again, but Hajime barely had time to recognise that it was Oikawa before he was being pushed back against the wall and kissed. 

"Mph—Oikawa!" 

Oikawa grinned against his mouth, then cupped Hajime's wet face and kissed him again, jamming their mouths together hard and messy. Hajime was all too aware of the unlocked door at Oikawa's back, but it felt good after the heightened tension of the match to clasp his hands around Oikawa's elbows and drag him closer. 

"I saw you," Oikawa murmured. "After we won, you looked so cross, I thought you were mad at me for beating you—"

"I'll kick your ass next time," Hajime snarled.

Oikawa let out a breathless laugh. "You weren't angry though," he went on, as though Hajime hadn't spoken. "You were _jealous_."

"Get off me," Hajime muttered, giving him a half-hearted shove. 

"Do you miss playing with me, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa asked in a playful tone, leaning in close again.

A burst of sudden laughter outside the door made them both jump and they pulled away from one another, expressions guilty. 

"Let's talk about it later, idiot," he said, pushing past Oikawa. "We have another game to play first."

Oikawa caught hold of his arm before he could escape, and leaned in close to murmur in his ear, "What do I get for winning?"

Hajime elbowed him. " _If_ your team comes top, I'll do your dishes."

Oikawa laughed. "Hajime, that's not fair."

"Oi, don't call me that."

"Fine, fine," Oikawa sighed, holding his hands up in defeat. "Good luck in your next game, Iwa-chan."

Hajime wanted to turn around and kiss him again, so much that his chest ached, but he just nodded and said, "You too."

 

 

Their second match seemed to pass in a flash. They played three sets again, the final one ending at last on thirty to twenty-eight in favour of Hajime's team. Oikawa's team lost their game by a similarly narrow margin, putting them in second place overall, and Hajime's team in third. It was a relief that they were only practice matches, and Hajime couldn't help feeling a little smug that Oikawa's team had failed to grab the number one spot on their home turf. He almost felt guilty for thinking it, until Oikawa spent the whole walk back complaining about his second match and reliving it in minute, irritating detail.

"What's the matter?" Oikawa asked suddenly, turning on the stairs to look back at him. "You're quiet."

"Maybe I'm just sick of hearing about volleyball every ten minutes," Hajime groused, pushing him out of the way. 

Oikawa gasped. "What? Since when?" He hurried up the stairs, catching Hajime on the landing where they both paused. "Iwa-chan, are you sick?" Oikawa asked, grabbing his shoulder and pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Get off me," Hajime said, shoving him into the wall. "I'm fine, I'm just—" He groaned and pushed his fingers through his hair. "God, I don't know anymore."

"Hajime," Oikawa said softly, reaching for him again. He dropped his sports bag on the floor and wrapped his arms around Hajime's waist, pulling him into a hug. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

Hajime shook his head. "Nothing," he mumbled into Oikawa's shoulder. "I'm just tired. _God_ , I'm so tired. Practice has been a mess lately, I've been a mess—"

Oikawa shushed him gently, bringing his hand up to tangle in Hajime's hair. "You didn't tell me."

"I...didn't really know," Hajime muttered. He pulled back, forcing a smile. "It's fine, I mean, I thought Coach would bench me tonight and he didn't, so things can't be that bad."

Oikawa gave him a soft, sympathetic smile that made Hajime feel vaguely nauseous. "You played really well today."

Hajime rolled his eyes. "I don't need your pity," he said, pulling away from Oikawa and heading up the stairs.

"Iwa-chan!"

"If you work out how to say that without sounding patronising, let me know."

"Iwa-chan, I was not patronising you! I was simply—"

Hajime snorted, and Oikawa stopped speaking abruptly when he realised that he'd been had.

"Very funny," he muttered, pushing past Hajime with his key in his hand. 

They stumbled through the door together, and Hajime kicked his shoes to one side while Oikawa slumped back against the wall with a sigh. 

"God, I need a shower," Oikawa whined. 

"Why didn't you shower at the gym?"

Oikawa shrugged.

Hajime dropped his bag on the floor and nodded. "Go on. I'll get the heater going and make us something to eat."

Oikawa groaned loudly. "I don't deserve you."

"You can say that again," Hajime said with a snort. He stepped over Oikawa's shoes, lying haphazard where he'd kicked them off, but Oikawa grabbed hold of his hoodie before he could escape. Hajime turned to him with a crooked smile, and Oikawa grinned back at him before leaning in for a long, slow kiss. Hajime leaned into him with a groan, slipping his arms around Oikawa's waist while the two of them melted against the wall. 

"Mmm, Hajime," Oikawa moaned, moving his hands up to touch Hajime's neck. He tucked his thumb into the hinge of Hajime's jaw and tilted his head, before running the tip of his tongue over Hajime's teeth.

Hajime pulled back, wincing. "Oi. Why can't you kiss normally?"

Oikawa snorted. "You're an expert now, are you?"

"I might be," Hajime said with a smirk. "Are you going for that shower or not?"

Oikawa slumped forward and buried his face in Hajime's neck. "No—o," he whined. "So tired."

"You're pathetic," Hajime said, voice thick with affection. He nudged his shoulder to dislodge Oikawa, tugging him away from the wall at the same time. He bent his knees, crouching slightly, and his fingers skimmed down Oikawa's back, over his ass and down to his thighs. "Up you get."

Oikawa let out a surprised huff. "Iwa-chan?"

Hajime patted Oikawa's thigh impatiently. "Come on."

Biting his lip, Oikawa wrapped his arms around Hajime's shoulders. Hajime grabbed hold of his thighs and lifted him up, tugging Oikawa's legs up around his hips. 

"You've put on weight," he said as he walked them across the apartment. 

"It's muscle," Oikawa said in a sniffy voice, clinging a little tighter to Hajime's shoulders. 

Hajime grinned. "Sure it is, chubbykawa."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that one," Oikawa said after a moment's consideration. 

Kicking open the bathroom, Hajime set Oikawa down on the bathmat and reached over to turn on the hot water. 

"I'm gonna go make dinner," he said, straightening up. "Don't drown."

"Thanks, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said in a sleepy voice. He reached over his head to tug off his sweatshirt, and Hajime quickly looked away at the sight of his bare skin. 

He went into the kitchen and threw together some of the ingredients they had bought that afternoon. The rice was already waiting in the cooker, so he settled for chopping up some vegetables and tofu and throwing them in with a packet of sauce he found in the cupboard. When it was done, he served some up in Oikawa's mismatched bowls, and went over to the bathroom.

"Hey," he said, kicking at the door. "You nearly done?"

"Almost!"

"Come and get it then."

Oikawa whined. "Iwa-chan, bring it in for me, please?"

"Eat it out here like a normal person," Iwaizumi said crossly. "Your bathroom is a cesspit."

He went and sat down on the couch, leaving Oikawa's bowl on the coffee table, and turned on the TV to continue watching the bizarre Korean drama they'd started the last time Oikawa visited him. 

After a couple of minutes Oikawa ventured out, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Hajime tried to ignore the way it sat low on his hips, or the way he looked when he bent over to search through a pile of clean laundry, his muscles taut. While Hajime watched out of the corner of his eye, Oikawa suddenly straightened up and dropped his towel on the floor. Hajime choked on a piece of rice. 

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa said, glancing over. "Are you okay?"

Hajime nodded, coughing into his fist. "Fine," he grated. "What're you doing?"

"Getting dressed," Oikawa said, turning away again and pulling on a pair of striped pyjama pants. 

"Your blinds are open," Hajime said, glancing over at the window. 

Oikawa grinned at him. "Then some lucky person is getting a free show I guess!" He flashed Hajime a peace sign, then turned back to his laundry and pulled on a t-shirt, followed by a familiar-looking hoodie. 

"Oi," Hajime said with his mouth full. "Is that mine?"

"You know it is," Oikawa said as he scooped up his own bowl and joined Hajime on the couch. He shovelled his mouth full of food and grinned. "This is delicious, Iwa-chan!"

Hajime kicked him. "Chew your food, chubbykawa."

Oikawa scowled. "I am not chubby."

"Hush," Hajime said, nudging him again with his foot. "I'm watching this."

When they had both finished eating, Oikawa wriggled under Hajime's arm and curled up against him. They talked and joked a little about the show, but otherwise they were both content to simply stay where they were, until finally Hajime caught Oikawa snoring and gently shook him awake.

"Come on," he murmured, hauling Oikawa into his arms again. "Bedtime."

"Mm," Oikawa hummed, making a lazy attempt at wrapping his arms and legs around Hajime. 

Hajime picked him up, wincing again at Oikawa's weight, and carried him through to the bedroom. Oikawa had made a token effort at tidying that afternoon, but he hadn't yet got around to setting up the spare futon. Hajime dumped Oikawa in bed, pulling the covers over him, then went to the closet to retrieve the futon and Oikawa's stack of spare blankets. 

"Hajime," Oikawa mumbled when he returned. 

"Mm?"

Oikawa pulled back his covers slightly. "Just get in, we can share."

Hajime shook his head as he laid out the futon. "There's no space, and you kick too much. I'll sleep down here."

Grumbling, Oikawa rolled over, and within moments he began to snore again. Hajime rolled his eyes, and settled down himself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um :>

Just after seven, Hajime's alarm went off, waking him with a start. He was disoriented for several seconds, until he remembered where he was. 

"No—o," Oikawa whined loudly from the bed. "Iwa-chan, make it stop."

Hajime rolled over and tugged his phone out from under his discarded clothes. "Gotta run," he muttered, forcing himself to hit snooze instead of dismissing it. 

Oikawa made a vague, dissenting noise in response. "Sleepy," he mumbled. 

With a groan, Hajime let his head fall back to the pillow. He didn't really mean to close his eyes, but the alarm went off again just as he was beginning to doze off. 

Oikawa wailed and threw his pillow off the bed. It landed on Hajime's chest, and he sat up, grumbling, and flung the pillow back at Oikawa. 

"Get up, asshole," Hajime said, stifling a yawn. "We're going for a run."

With another agonised sound, Oikawa yanked his covers over his head. One of his ankles was left uncovered, and Hajime grinned before reaching out and giving it a vicious tug. Oikawa yelped as he slid halfway off his bed. 

"Iwa-chan!" he squawked.

Hajime grinned and gave him another tug, so that Oikawa slipped right off the bed and landed on top of him in a slightly painful jumble of limbs. 

"No—o," Oikawa moaned again, flopping down on Hajime's stomach. He was warm and heavy, and it was painfully tempting to pull him into the pile of blankets and fall asleep again together. 

Hajime pushed away the dangerous thought, and jabbed Oikawa in the ribs instead. "Hey, how's your head today?"

"Fine." Oikawa grunted and tried to bat him away, but Hajime grabbed his arm and seized it between his teeth.

"Ah!" Oikawa yelped, yanking his arm away. "Bad dog, Iwa-chan!"

Hajime grinned at him. "Come on," he said, jiggling his legs before Oikawa could get too comfortable sprawled across him. "We're going running."

Oikawa groaned, but after a moment he reluctantly pulled himself to his feet. "Fine, fine," he sighed, brushing himself off, before reaching into his pyjama pants to adjust himself. Hajime looked away. 

"You can have the bathroom first."

"How gracious," Oikawa said, and reached out to nudge Hajime's thigh with his toes. "I like your bedhead, Iwa-chan."

Hajime reached up without thinking to run his fingers through his hair. "Yours is worse."

Oikawa grinned. "Sticks and stones, Iwa-chan." He sighed and stepped over Hajime's futon. "I'm going to piss. Fill my water bottle, won't you?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hajime muttered, turning away to find his backpack.

 

 

Perhaps it was because they both had the weekend off from regular practice, but they ended up running far longer than they usually did. When they returned from their run at last, sweaty and winded, shirts clinging to their skin, Oikawa went straight to the sink. He filled a glass with water which he began chugging without pause. 

Hajime rested his hip against the counter and watched Oikawa's throat work rhythmically, listening to him gulp his drink, and watching the sweat run down the side of his neck. 

When he was done, Oikawa set the empty glass on the counter and wiped his face on the shoulder of his t-shirt. “What is it?” he asked, watching Hajime. Oikawa was silhouetted against the light from the window, but Hajime could tell that he was grinning smugly. “What're you thinking about?”

Hajime was thinking of the weekend they first kissed, of their stupid play fight in the kitchen when Oikawa had shoved ice down his shorts. Hajime had wanted to kiss him so much then, it had been physically painful to wait. And then, when they lay together on the couch, he had been so _sure_ —

“Dibs on the shower,” he said, turning away. 

“Not fair,” Oikawa whined. He walked over and caught hold of Hajime by the waistband of his shorts, using the grip to pull him closer. “Let's just share,” he murmured, putting his mouth against the back of Hajime's left ear. “We'll use less water that way. I know how much you care about being eco-friendly.”

Hajime rolled his eyes and turned in Oikawa's grasp, letting his arms fall around Oikawa's waist of their own accord. “Your shower is too small,” he said in a low voice, and hoped that Oikawa hadn't noticed the little shiver that went through him at the feel of Oikawa's breath against his ear. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined, tilting his face in to nose at Hajime's neck. They were both damp and disgusting, but Oikawa didn't seem bothered by the fact. “Please? I'll behave.”

“You don't know how,” Hajime said, running one hand up Oikawa's back and ignoring the fact that his t-shirt was sticking to him still. 

Oikawa grinned against his neck. “Then teach me,” he said brightly. 

Hajime rolled his eyes. He knew that Oikawa was a hopeless case. Hajime had never met anyone more inclined to do whatever the hell they wanted, no matter what the situation called for. The distance had made it easier so far, but Hajime could tell that Oikawa was getting impatient. He kept contriving excuses for intimacy, and he wasn't going to tolerate Hajime making excuses much longer without questioning him directly. 

Hajime really wasn't ready to answer the question of why they hadn't had sex yet. 

“You're awful,” Hajime said unconvincingly, pushing Oikawa away by his face. “No wonder you're adopted.”

“Sticks and stones,” Oikawa said breezily, letting Hajime go. 

Hajime ignored him and went into the bathroom. It was marginally less disgusting than the last time he'd stayed over. Oikawa had clearly made _some_ attempt at cleaning it. He closed the door behind him and hesitated. He didn't want to lock the door between them, but it was the only sure way to stop Oikawa from following through on his threat. 

“Hey," he said, yanking open the door again.

Oikawa looked up guiltily from where he was rummaging through Hajime's backpack. “Um—”

“Get out of there, you're not a raccoon,” Hajime snapped. “And stay out of my shower.”

Oikawa's expression brightened again, but Hajime slammed the door before he could see where it was heading. He set the shower running and stripped off his sweaty clothes, resigning himself to a high probability of invasion. 

_Be strong_ , he told himself, catching his own gaze in the mirror and frowning. _He's an idiot. Don't fuck an idiot._

The thought made Hajime's insides churn. He hated lying to himself. He pushed it away and climbed into the shower. 

The water was hot, and he turned it down to cool himself off. Oikawa liked to be warm all the time, but Hajime loved going from hot to cold, or vice versa. A freezing cold shower in the middle of summer, or rolling himself up in a pile of towels straight from the dryer when it was snowing outside. 

He stood in the cool water for a minute or two, until he'd stopped feeling flustered and overheated, then he turned it up to a reasonable temperature and washed his hair. 

Oikawa came into the bathroom when he was rinsing out the shampoo.

“Get out of here, Oikawa,” Hajime said without much conviction. 

Oikawa walked over to the shower stall and pressed his nose against the glass. Hajime grinned at him, then drew a heart in the condensation. 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa said excitedly, right before Hajime drew a big cross through the heart. Oikawa pressed his pout against the shower door. “Iwa-chan,” he said again, dejected. 

Satisfied that he was safe, Hajime turned away to finish washing, so he missed the moment in which Oikawa flung off his clothes and opened the shower door. It wasn't until a long arm snaked around his waist to reach for the shampoo that he even noticed. 

“Dammit, Oikawa—”

“Iwa-chan should learn to share,” Oikawa said pleasantly. 

Hajime elbowed him. He grabbed the shower gel and soaped up his armpits and his chest, but every movement brought him into contact with some part of Oikawa. The shower stall was small, with just room for the two of them to stand without touching. It was impossible with them both moving. 

“Oikawa, get out,” he snapped, when they collided for the fifth or sixth time, and Oikawa's hand lingered over his chest. He turned around to scowl, but this just brought him face to face with Oikawa

“I'm wet now, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa reached up to replace the shower head and looped his arms around Hajime's neck. “Besides, I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Spend time with me when we're dry,” Hajime said, trying to ignore how dry his mouth suddenly felt, or the way his gut surged cheerfully at Oikawa's proximity. He closed his hands into fists so that he wouldn't be tempted to touch, and clumsily turned around again. “I'm almost done, just wait—”

Oikawa moved behind him and put his hands on Hajime’s hips. Slowly, he pressed his lips against the back of Hajime's neck. 

“Oikawa,” Hajime said, trying to sound playful but firm, so that Oikawa would let go without worrying about his reaction. But his voice came out too quiet and was swallowed by the rush of water. 

Oikawa's hand flattened over Hajime's stomach and began to move upward. The other held his hip tightly.

Swallowing, Hajime tried again. “Oikawa—”

“I really missed you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sighed, breath heavy against the side of his neck. He moved closer, fitting their bodies together, so that Hajime could feel him getting turned on. 

“Tooru—” Hajime said, a little desperately. 

“I loved watching you play yesterday.” Oikawa's fingers gripped his left hip while the other hand moved over his chest, toying with his nipple. The pressure of his touch emphasised his words. “You're so good,” he said, hand moving from Hajime's hip to his stomach. “So _strong_. It was almost like I didn't know you."

Hajime bit his lip. He didn't know where to put his hands, which still clutched the bottle of shower gel like a lifeline. Part of him wanted to push Oikawa's hands away, but then he would have to explain. Hajime couldn't find the words for himself, let alone for Oikawa. Not to mention the other part of him—slowly growing in volume from a panicked whisper to a noisy clamour the longer Oikawa touched him—that desperately wanted to do this with his best friend. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa groaned, kissing the side of his neck, the back of his shoulder. “Let me make you feel good.” As he spoke, he suddenly reached down and stroked Hajime's dick covetously, long fingers curling around him, pulling him to reluctant arousal. 

Hajime melted against him with a heartfelt moan. The bottle slipped from his fingers, clattering against the shower floor. He reached instead for Oikawa's hands, instinct pulsing through him like the first time they kissed. He laced their fingers together, trying to ground himself. Oikawa's mouth was on his neck; Hajime could feel his off-kilter breaths, the way each one caught in the back of his throat with the soft suggestion of an animal sound. 

Dizzy with how much he needed to be touched, Hajime wrapped Oikawa's fingers more deliberately around his dick and started to rock them slowly. Oikawa took over without prompting, stroking him at the same agonising pace. 

“Hajime,” he murmured, tugging his other hand free of Hajime's grip and reaching up to turn his head gently. 

They kissed over Hajime's left shoulder, messy and gasping against each other's lips. Hajime reached over his head to tangle his fingers in Oikawa's wet hair, tugging hard and swallowing the urgent sounds he made. He'd noticed that Oikawa liked it when Hajime kissed him roughly; sure enough, Oikawa pressed closer, hips rocking against Hajime's backside, hand moving faster. 

“Tooru,” Hajime moaned, digging his fingers tighter into Oikawa’s hair. “Fuck, harder—”

Oikawa adjusted his grip and started to stroke Hajime slower, more deliberately. His other hand fluttered over Hajime's throat, fingers brushing his jaw as he gasped for breath.

Turning his head, Hajime caught the tips of Oikawa's fingers in his mouth, closing his teeth on them gently. 

“Hajime—” Oikawa murmured in surprise. His voice melted into a lovely moan when Hajime curled his tongue around Oikawa's fingers and sucked them into his mouth. When Hajime sucked harder, Oikawa made a choking sound and dug his teeth into Hajime's shoulder.

Hajime grabbed Oikawa's wrist and shoved the fingers deeper into his mouth, almost choking himself on them. He scraped his teeth over Oikawa's knuckles and sucked hard. It made him think of how much he longed to go down on Oikawa. His mouth watered and his hands shook at the thought of finally getting to do something he'd fantasised about so many times before. 

The thought took him over the edge and he cried out as he came, mindless of how he sounded with his voice muffled by Oikawa's fingers. He barely noticed Oikawa withdrawing them, his mouth open and his eyes closed tight as he rode out the high, shaking in Oikawa's arms.

As he came down, he realised that Oikawa was speaking to him softly, voice warm and indulgent. His lips moved against the side of Hajime's neck, making his skin tingle. 

“Tooru,” Hajime said, his tongue feeling clumsy in his mouth. As he turned, his foot skidded on the base of the shower but he managed not to slip. Oikawa's fingers dragged over his wet skin. 

“My hand is dirty—Iwa-chan, what're you—”

Hajime pushed Oikawa back against the tiles, ignoring his squawk of protest at the cold, and lunged forward to kiss him. He hit his mark too hard, and Oikawa's teeth bumped his bottom lip hard enough to bruise, but Hajime didn't back down. He put his hands on Oikawa's waist and dragged their hips together, swallowing down a moan at the jolt of overstimulation when his dick rubbed against Oikawa's thigh. 

Oikawa gasped when his own erection pressed against Hajime's stomach. Hajime grabbed his face in both hands, taking the chance to push his tongue into Oikawa's mouth and giving him a hard, filthy kiss.

“I'm gonna suck you,” he growled as they broke apart to draw breath. He nuzzled their cheeks together and sighed against Oikawa's ear. There were a hundred things he wanted to say, words that had been rattling around in his head for weeks, but even now he felt self-conscious, and they stuck to his tongue instead. 

“Iwa-chan?”

 _I think about it all the time,_ he thought, trying to will the words into Oikawa’s head. _I think about how you taste, I want to make you come._

Hajime kissed underneath Oikawa’s ear, then moved his lips down the side of his neck. He felt Oikawa move against him and tightened his grasp on Oikawa’s hips before sinking his teeth into Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Ah, f-fuck.” Oikawa ground against his hip, hands still curled loosely around Hajime’s face.

Hajime kissed him again quickly before pulling away and dropping to his knees. He put his hands on Oikawa's thighs and took a deep breath; he couldn't tell which one of them was trembling, but he suspected it was him. Oikawa's cock bobbed in front of him, twitching with his eagerness for release. Hajime wrapped his hand around it and felt Oikawa tense briefly before relaxing against the wall. 

_Touch me, touch me_ Hajime thought frantically, looking up at him and squinting a little to keep the water out of his eyes. He grabbed for one of Oikawa’s hands and brought it to the top of his head, placing it deliberately over his hair before putting his own hands back to Oikawa’s thighs.

Oikawa brushed a strand of wet hair off Hajime's forehead with shaking fingers. Water dripped down Oikawa's chest and splashed onto Hajime's face; he closed his eyes and enjoyed the little shiver of arousal that came from the knowledge of Oikawa seeing him like this. 

“Hajime.” Oikawa's voice was quiet and uncertain; Hajime wondered, not for the first time, if anyone had ever gone down on him before. The thought had occupied him a lot recently. “Are you sure you want—”

Before he could finish, Hajime angled Oikawa’s dick toward his face and parted his lips to lick at the head. Oikawa abruptly stopped speaking. Trying to hide some of his urgency, Hajime closed his eyes and mouthed softly at Oikawa’s dick. It was hot on his tongue, a pleasant weight; Hajime felt his mouth fill with saliva and he pushed forward, hungry for more. 

Oikawa moaned loudly as Hajime took him in deeper. His hands trembled through Hajime's hair, before pushing deep into the wet tangles and staying there. His grasp was gentle, but it made Hajime feel both protected, and strangely supplicant. He wanted to make Oikawa come, to make sure that he was thinking of _Hajime_ when he touched himself. 

A hair caught on the back of his tongue and Hajime pulled away so that he could remove it, replacing his mouth with his fingers for a few moments. It was tricky to get rid of the hair subtly. 

“You're so quiet,” Oikawa said, brushing Hajime's hair to one side again. 

Hajime looked up at him, and his expression made Oikawa grin.

“Not because of _that_.” 

“You can try it next,” Hajime said with some of his usual gruffness. “You talk too much.”

Oikawa laughed, not his usual laugh at all, but nervous and breathy. It felt good to hear him caught off guard. After knowing each other for so long, it was rare that Hajime really got the opportunity to surprise him. Hajime sucked harder and Oikawa’s fingers clenched in his hair in response, his throat making a loud clucking sound as he choked on his own voice. Hajime was pretty sure that Oikawa had never had a blowjob before. He wondered how obvious it was that he’d given one before. He hadn’t done it very many times, but this was certainly nothing like his first clumsy attempt.

Closing his eyes once more, Hajime relaxed his throat and took Oikawa’s dick in as deep as he could. It bumped against his soft palate, making him choke. He could feel Oikawa tugging at his hair again and swallowed past the lump in his throat, forcing his gag reflex into submission. 

He remembered how Oikawa had boasted once about not having a gag reflex. The thought made him moan involuntarily. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa gasped suddenly, his thighs shaking under Hajime's palms. “Hajime, I'm—I need—”

Hajime pulled back and replaced his mouth with his hand again, jerking Oikawa off quickly. He kept his mouth open, tongue cradling the head. He wasn't sure if he wanted Oikawa to come in his mouth. Aside from anything else, he would probably never hear the end of it. 

Oikawa cried out again. His foot skidded a little, ankle knocking into Hajime's thigh. Hajime grabbed his leg and held it still while he pumped him through his orgasm, letting Oikawa spill over his mouth and chin. He liked how hot it felt on his face, and the sound Oikawa made, almost like he was in pain, but not quite.

When Oikawa collapsed back against the wall, Hajime wet his hand under the shower and stroked Oikawa's dick a few more times, cleaning him off gently. And then, because he couldn't resist, he drew it back into his mouth one last time, sucking away the lingering salt taste before Oikawa made a soft sound of protest and nudged him away. 

“Enough, it's enough,” Oikawa gasped. 

Hajime rinsed his face before climbing to his feet. There was little space between them, but Oikawa didn't seem to have much intention of being apart. As soon as Hajime was on his feet, Oikawa put a hand on the back of his neck and kissed him fiercely. 

“Hajime,” he murmured when they parted, still holding him close enough to kiss. “Mm, Hajime, thank you—”

“Idiot.” Hajime pulled away from him, the back of his neck burning. “Don't thank me.”

Oikawa's eyes widened. “Why not? It was a nice thing to do, why shouldn't I thank you?” 

Hajime pushed him aside. “You're being weird,” he said, scrambling to escape the shower stall that now felt oppressively small and cramped. “It was just a blowjob.” 

“You're so unromantic,” Oikawa said with a sigh, but he let Hajime escape and turned back to finish washing himself. 

Slamming the bathroom door behind him, Hajime scooped up his backpack and went into Oikawa's bedroom. He closed that door behind him too. Still dripping, his towel wrapped hastily around his waist, Hajime sank onto the edge of the bed and dropped his bag on the floor beside him. He still felt lightheaded and shaky, and he took a few deep breaths to try and steady himself.

Hajime wondered if Oikawa would sulk about him running away right after their first time. The irony almost made him laugh. Shaking off his discomfort, he stood up and dried himself quickly so that he could get dressed before Oikawa returned. 

 

 

Hajime ensured that he was already seated at Oikawa's low table, tea in hand and homework spread out before him, by the time Oikawa was washed and dried. 

It didn't stop Oikawa from making a beeline for him and tucking himself up against Hajime's back, cheek resting on the back of his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. 

"Oi, I'm trying to concentrate," Hajime groused, shrugging him off. 

Oikawa didn't budge. "Iwa-chan," he mumbled, rubbing his face against Hajime's back. "Mmm, Iwa-chan, Iwa-cha—an." 

"Don't abuse my name. What is it?"

Oikawa shrugged, then he started giggling. "It's just kind of strange, don't you think?" he said after a moment. 

Hajime sighed. "Yeah. Kind of."

"We had _sex_ ," Oikawa said, dropping his voice to a stage whisper. He lifted his head after a moment and shuffled around so that he could look Hajime in the eye. "Iwa-chan, hey," he murmured, leaning close. "Next time, I want to see your face when I make you come."

Hajime's eyes widened. He dropped his pen and put his hand over Oikawa's face to shove him away. 

"Idiot," he muttered, feeling his entire face start to burn. "Don't say that stuff."

Oikawa tugged Hajime's hand away from his face with a hurt noise. "Why not?" he complained. "I want to have sex. I told you on the phone, I want to—"

Hajime groaned loudly. "Tooru," he said, interrupting whatever Oikawa was about to say. "I _really_ have to get my work done." He glanced up despite his red face; for a moment, it looked like Oikawa would argue, but then he shrugged and forced a smile. 

"You're right, Iwa-chan," he said, nodding. "But you can't work on an empty stomach. I'm going to make us some breakfast."

Before Hajime could protest, Oikawa hooked a finger under his chin, tilted his face up, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. Hajime felt himself turn pink all over again, and then Oikawa ran his thumb over Hajime's bottom lip and sighed. 

"I just want to kiss you all day," Oikawa murmured, leaning in again. 

Hajime turned his head quickly, and Oikawa made a disgruntled noise when he ended up kissing Hajime's cheek. 

"You're so mean, Iwa-chan," Oikawa said, finally letting go of him and leaning back. "I'm going to spit in your pancakes."

"Wait, you're making pancakes?"

 

 

Hajime managed to keep Oikawa's more amorous attentions at bay for the majority of the day. After they had eaten breakfast they worked in relative quiet for a while, but Oikawa kept shuffling around the table to get closer to him, or leaning in to steal a kiss. 

Eventually, Hajime suggested they go out and find a café to work in. He had assumed that Oikawa wouldn't be so handsy in public, but he didn't seem particularly deterred. He stopped short of kisses at least, but spent half the afternoon with his hand on Hajime's thigh or his head on his shoulder, their knees and toes jammed together under the table. 

Hajime spent the whole afternoon thinking unsexy thoughts, and trying not to focus on the fact that his defenses had crumbled so easily that morning. Even now, he wanted to lean into Oikawa's warmth, drag him back to the apartment and pull some of those wonderful sounds out of him again. 

When neither of them could take anymore studying, they took their books and laptops back to Oikawa's apartment and went out into the city. 

It was cold enough for snow, but the skies were clear, and the temperature dropped quickly as the sun went down. Oikawa took Hajime's hand as they ambled along a street lit by fairy lights, and tucked both their hands into his coat pocket. Hajime found himself stealing glances, watching the way the light warmed Oikawa's face and hair in the darkness, watching laughter play across his face as they shared old jokes. 

"Hey," Oikawa said quietly, squeezing his fingers. "See something you like?"

Hajime grinned. "Just some idiot."

Oikawa sniggered. "You must've seen your reflection in a shop window."

Hajime thumped him in the shoulder. "Yeah, funny."

His eyes kept coming back to Oikawa as they walked, following the movements of his face as he talked, memorising the shape of his smile for the hundredth time. Without thinking, Hajime reached for Oikawa's hand again and held it tightly. He felt strangely anxious at the thought of going back to Oikawa's apartment. He'd already failed to maintain the distance between them, and he wasn't sure how to get it back, or even if he could. 

"What's on your mind?" Oikawa asked after a little while, swinging their joined hands. 

"What? Nothing."

Oikawa tilted his head with a smirk. "Are you playing coy, Iwa-chan," he teased, "or do you honestly think I can't read you like a book by now?"

Hajime tugged his hand free and shoved it in his pocket. "It's weird."

"What's weird?"

Hajime looked at him sidelong, then glanced away again, the back of his neck burning. "Having sex," he mumbled. "With you."

"Bad weird?"

"Not really," Hajime said grudgingly, though in truth, he wasn't sure. 

Oikawa laughed, sudden and surprised. "Well then," he said, and he was blushing too when Hajime looked round. "We'll just have to do it again to be sure."

Hajime groaned. "Keep your voice down."

"Nope," Oikawa said, grinning at him. "I'm going to shout it from a rooftop."

"Not if I break your arm," Hajime snarled, stomping after him. 

Oikawa danced out of reach, laughing. "I can still yell with a broken arm, you bully!"

Hajime swiped at his sleeve, but Oikawa ducked away from him and started to run. "Oi!" Hajime shouted, picking up his own feet. Oikawa broke into a sprint, and Hajime followed without thinking. 

They ran along the quiet paths of the park until their stamina failed them and they were forced to stop, leaning on one another and panting for breath. A streetlight cast a sickly glow over Oikawa's face and hair, and when they had caught their breath enough to speak, Hajime grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him soundly while there was nobody around to see.

 

 

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa asked him later that night, his voice unusually hesitant. "Do you want to—do something, before we go to sleep?"

Hajime groaned, not looking up from the article he'd been reading on his phone. "I'm not watching anymore kdrama tonight."

Oikawa huffed. "No, I mean…" He cleared his throat, and Hajime looked over to find him wearing an uncharacteristically shy smile. "We could have sex."

Hajime almost rolled off the edge of Oikawa's bed in surprise. "What?

"Don't you want to?" 

"No, just—I'm really tired," Hajime lied, trying to resist the urge to grit his teeth. He put his phone to one side. "Really, it wouldn't be good. Maybe we should just save it for next time."

Oikawa wrinkled his nose, looking doubtful. "But that might be ages," he said, reaching for Hajime again. "I want to make the most of you while you're here."

Oikawa's hand tightened on his hip, thumb skimming under the hem of his t-shirt to trace the muscle of his adonis belt. "Ah— _hah_ ," Hajime hissed, shivering at the touch. He grabbed Oikawa's wrist and tugged it away. "I think we should just leave it for tonight."

Again, Oikawa gave him that wrinkly-nosed, calculating look. "Is something wrong? You're being kind of prudish."

Hajime scowled. "A prude who sucked your dick this morning."

"I didn't forget," Oikawa said, a spark lighting in his eyes. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. First that, and then—" He stopped talking and pulled his wrist out of Hajime's grip, but instead of reaching out again, he rested his palm on his own stomach. "But if you don't want to, that's okay too."

"Tooru—"

"Mm?"

As Hajime watched, Oikawa dragged his t-shirt up, baring his taut stomach muscles. He made it appear like an accident, but Hajime could tell that it was anything but. His eyes flicked up to Oikawa's face, which was a mistake when he took in Oikawa's heavy gaze, the way his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. And then the movement of Oikawa's arm, unmistakable even without looking, as he slid his hand into his boxers.

"I'm going to sleep," Hajime said, somehow keeping a steady tone in his voice. He turned over where he lay and reached out to switch off Oikawa's bedside lamp. 

Hajime thumped the pillow once and then put his head against it, pressing his ear down and trying not to hear the sounds of Oikawa's fingers whispering against the fabric of his underwear. Turning out the light had been a mistake. The darkness only made the noises seem louder, and although Oikawa's movements were subtle, they slowly increased in fervour. The mattress began to shift beneath them as Oikawa shifted and touched himself with more confidence. Hajime was transported back to that fateful sleepover when they were younger, when he had lain awake listening to Oikawa pleasure himself and longed for the bravery to offer to help. It was torture to be so close to him now and to hold himself back from joining in. 

Oikawa moved, rolling onto his back, and a long breath came out of him, filling Hajime's mind with a haze of tempting ideas. 

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa breathed softly, then choked back a quiet moan. "Hnn, Hajime--"

"Oi," Hajime muttered. "I told you earlier to stop abusing my name."

Oikawa laughed quietly. "But I always think about Iwa-chan when I'm jerking off."

Hajime felt too hot. He kicked his feet out from under the covers and scowled into the darkness. "Pervert."

"Don't tell me you don't do the same." Oikawa's voice was low and breathy, and Hajime could just picture that voice rolling against his ear like honey while Oikawa took him from behind. He shuddered hard, and was grateful that Oikawa had shifted at the same time, and probably hadn't noticed. 

"I always—want you to touch me," Oikawa gasped, rolling his hips, his words becoming more breathless. "Ahh, Hajime—mm I can't wait to fuck you, is that okay?" He let out a nervous little laugh. "I think about that a lot, how it would feel, about, what sounds you would make—"

"For fuck's sake."

Hajime rolled over suddenly. The bed wasn't big enough for two, especially if they were moving around, so he rolled right on top of Oikawa, who made a funny, startled sound.

"Iwa—"

"Shut the fuck up," Hajime snarled, tugging Oikawa's hands out of his underwear and pinning them by his head. He lowered his face to Oikawa's neck and bit him hard; Oikawa made a choked sound that ran through Hajime like electricity, so he did it again, seizing a mouthful of flesh through Oikawa's t-shirt and biting his shoulder. 

"Fuck, _fuck,_ " Oikawa cried, his wrists straining at Hajime's grasp, testing his hold. "Iwa-chan that _hurt_."

"Sorry," Hajime mumbled, pulling away, surprised at himself. 

Oikawa laughed. "I didn't say stop."

Hajime pressed their hips together and ground down against him; Oikawa moaned loudly but caught the noise with his teeth, biting his bottom lip hard. Leaning down, Hajime bit Oikawa's chin, tightened his fingers around Oikawa's wrists and scraped along his jaw with his teeth. When Oikawa opened his mouth again, releasing a breathless sound, Hajime kissed him. It was messy and rushed, Oikawa's tongue in his mouth making him feel like he was on fire.

"Don't shut up," Hajime gasped when they broke apart for breath. "Tooru—" He released one of Oikawa's hands and reached down between them, pressing his hand against Oikawa's dick. 

Oikawa choked and threw his head back. "Ha—Hajime, please—" 

"Keep talking," Hajime insisted. He sat back on his heels and grabbed Oikawa's underwear, tugging it down until his dick bounced free and slapped against his stomach. 

Their breathing was heavy in the small room, and Oikawa's body was so hot beneath his. Unable to resist, Hajime bent down and ran his tongue along Oikawa's dick, feeling Oikawa tense beneath him, the way his legs shook with the urge to move up into it. 

"Hnn—H-Hajime," Oikawa ventured. The light snapped back on, and then Oikawa reached down with one hand and pushed his fingers into Hajime's hair.

Hajime lifted his head again before he could get too caught up in his task. "Tell me what you think about."

Oikawa laughed. "You mean apart from this?"

The words made his chest writhe inwardly. "You think about me doing this?" Hajime asked in a low voice.

"God," Oikawa groaned, fingers tightening in Hajime's hair. "All the time. The real thing is better though."

Hajime snorted. "I'd hope so." He lowered his head again. "Keep talking."

"You normally tell me I talk too much," Oikawa said in an indulgent voice, sighing happily as Hajime took his dick in his mouth again. "Now I know the truth, Iwa-chan, I know how much you really like my voice."

Hajime pinched his thigh in retaliation, and Oikawa let out a breathless laugh before continuing with his mortifying commentary. 

"I like listening to you too," he confessed in a hoarse whisper. "The other night wasn't the first time I've jerked off while you were on the phone."

 _Pervert_ ," Hajime thought, a delicious thrill running down his spine and into his balls.

"Will you hit me if I say you look really good sucking my cock?" Oikawa gasped.

Hajime considered the question, then shook his head minutely. He pulled off moments later, replacing his mouth with his fingers. "As long as you don't abuse it," he muttered.

Oikawa laughed under his breath, and drew his knees up on either side of Hajime, bracketing him with his thighs. "Come up here, Hajime," he purred. He shivered when Hajime gripped him a little more tightly before letting go.

Hajime covered Oikawa with his body again, and leaned in to pull Oikawa's t-shirt aside so that he could suck at the soft skin of his neck and shoulder. Oikawa reached down, tugging at Hajime's underwear and then grinding their hips together as soon as his cock was free of the fabric.

" _Yes_ ," Oikawa moaned, clamping his thighs around Hajime's hips. 

Hajime braced his hands either side of Oikawa's chest and rolled his hips down hard, and then again, slowly picking up a rhythm. Oikawa clung to him, hands clutching his shoulders while his powerful thighs held Hajime tightly. 

" _Ah_ —fuck, Hajime," Oikawa gasped suddenly when Hajime rolled his hips a little differently. "You'll make me come."

Hajime bit his lip painfully. "You're gonna come from this?" He tried to see Oikawa's face, but Oikawa had closed his eyes tightly. Hajime nuzzled his cheek instead, and Oikawa's hand crept from his shoulder to the back of his neck, pulling him into a clumsy kiss. 

"Harder," Oikawa gasped, his breath rushing hot against Hajime's cheek. "Harder, c'mon—"

Hajime responded, reaching back to pull Oikawa's leg tighter around him.

"Come on, Tooru," he growled, before biting Oikawa's jaw again. "Come for me, yeah? Come on—"

Oikawa's grip tightened on the back of Hajime's neck, and he made a choked sound and turned his head to one side. It was several seconds before Hajime felt the wetness between them and pulled his face away from Oikawa's neck.

"Hey," he murmured, movements stuttering to a halt. "Did you…"

Oikawa responded with a breathless laugh. "Well, Iwa-chan," he said, fluttering his eyelashes, "if you can't tell when a man orgasms on you—"

"Shut it," Hajime snarled, cuffing him on the shoulder. His lips curved into a reluctant smile nonetheless. "You were just really quiet."

"I'm not loud all the time."

Looking down between them, Hajime pushed against the wetness on Oikawa's belly a few times, shuddering at the sensation, picturing himself moving inside Oikawa. He forced himself to stop finally and looked up again to find Oikawa watching him, his expression very soft. For a long moment they held each other's gaze. 

Oikawa's leg twitched suddenly, breaking the delicate moment. Oikawa winced, and stretched his leg out along the bed.

"You okay?" Hajime asked quietly.

Oikawa nodded. He gave Hajime a little shove, and when Hajime propped himself up, their skin peeled away from each other's with an uncomfortable, sticky feeling.

"Ugh," Hajime muttered. "Sweaty."

Laughing, Oikawa shoved at him again. "Lie down now, Iwa-chan. It's my turn."

"You just had a turn," Hajime said, flopping down into the narrow space beside him. 

"I don't mean _that_." 

When Hajime glanced over, Oikawa opened his mouth and stuck his tongue in his cheek. His meaning was unmistakable. 

"Oh," Hajime sad, somehow blushing even though he was already red with exertion. 

Oikawa was already moving. He wiped himself with his t-shirt, then lifted his knee and straddled Hajime's thighs. His underwear was still pulled down under his ass, and Hajime could see his cock, red and sticky and still hard, before Oikawa winced and tucked himself away. He reached out then and pressed his hand against Hajime's chest, giving him a covetous squeeze before trailing down, over his stomach. He reached the hem of Hajime's t-shirt and pushed up, urging until Hajime lifted his shoulders from the bed and tugged it off.

"Mm, that's better," Oikawa hummed, and moved his hand lower. He pressed down, grinding against Hajime's dick with the heel of his palm and making him choke back a moan. Oikawa licked his mouth. "I like the sounds you make," he said, apparently determined to be embarrassing. He wrapped his fingers around Hajime's dick and stroked him loosely. It wouldn't take much, Hajime realised, after what they had already done.

Oikawa released him after a moment and shuffled down the bed, tugging Hajime's boxers down as he went. Hajime caught his gaze, and Oikawa grinned before lowering his head to Hajime's crotch. Despite the cocky look on his face, his movements were tentative, and Hajime bit his lip on offering advice, trying to let him figure it out for himself.

Oikawa pulled back after only a few moments, wrinkling his nose in a way that made Hajime want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. "You taste like me," Oikawa murmured, not sounding particularly displeased. 

"I wonder why," Hajime said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

By the time he'd said it, Oikawa had already gone back to his task with renewed vigour. He didn't take Hajime in very far at first, and then when he tried to go deeper he gagged twice.

"It's not a race," Hajime said, wincing when Oikawa grazed him with his teeth. 

"I'm adjusting," Oikawa said, tone bordering on indignance. 

Hajime stifled a sigh, and reached out for him. "Hey, c'mere—"

"But I want to—"

"Next time," Hajime said gently. "I want to kiss you."

Oikawa softened. "Iwa-chan," he murmured, moving up clumsily to oblige him.

With a little maneuvering, they lay back down alongside one another, and Oikawa brought him off quickly with his hands, Hajime panting into Oikawa's mouth as he shuddered his way through an orgasm that was better than almost any he'd had alone.

"There," Oikawa said when he'd stopped shaking. He wiped his hands on his t-shirt and then reached up to brush Haijme's hair back off his forehead. "Your hair's getting long."

"Mm," Hajime hummed noncommittally. He felt as if he'd been submerged in a warm bath, or wrapped in warm towels, only the feeling wasn't quite physical. Oikawa's fingers moved through his hair and Hajime leaned into it unconsciously, letting his worries slip to the back of his mind.

"You're all red and angry-looking," Oiakwa said after a moment. Hajime opened his eyes to find Oikawa looking at him with a lopsided grin. "I thought you'd mellow out a bit if you got laid." 

Hajime swiped at him weakly, but Oikawa caught his wrist and laughed. 

"You're welcome," he said, turning Hajime's wrist and kissing the palm of his hand. "I'll let you rest now, sleepy Iwa-chan."

There wasn't space for two on the bed, but Hajime was already half asleep. He felt Oikawa pull the covers over them both and forced his eyes open. "I'll move in a second," he mumbled.

Oikawa struggled out of his dirty t-shirt and threw it across the room. "Now there's a nasty shirt in your bed," he whispered, snuggling up to Hajime and draping an arm over his waist. "You'd better stay here.

Hajime was asleep before he could come up with a response.

 

 

Hajime woke at some point in the night, feeling disoriented and overheated. Oikawa was plastered against his side. As he came fully awake, he realised that Oikawa was awake too, trailing his fingertips back and forth over Hajime’s bare chest. 

“Hey,” Hajime whispered. 

Oikawa opened his eyes, his gaze heavy and liquid in the darkness. “Hey,” he murmured.

Hajime’s arm had gone to sleep under the weight of Oikawa’s head resting on his shoulder. He shifted to free it, but when Oikawa tried to move away, Hajime caught him and pulled him close again. 

Kissing him in the dark, in the middle of the night, felt different to normal. Oikawa was pliant and soft against him, the kiss languid, every touch of Oikawa’s mouth making him feel hot and needy. Hajime brushed his lips across Oikawa’s jaw and sucked his earlobe softly, feeling the way it made him shiver and melt in his arms, then he nuzzled back to Oikawa’s mouth and kissed him again. Oikawa’s hand roamed across his chest, fingertips brushing his waist where he was ticklish. Hajime twitched in response, and felt Oikawa’s smile against his cheek. He was probably waiting for a rebuke, or a retaliation, but all Hajime could think of doing was kissing him again, and again.

He wrapped his arms more tightly around Oikawa’s shoulders, pulling him close; Oikawa sighed gently, sliding his thigh over Hajime’s legs and grinding against him in a slow, lazy rhythm. Hajime slid his fingers into Oikawa’s hair and kissed him harder.

“Mm, Hajime,” Oikawa sighed quietly as they paused for breath. 

Hajime turned Oikawa’s head gently in his hands and kissed the tip of his nose, and then his cheekbone, then pressed his lips very softly to Oikawa’s eyelid, feeling it flutter against his mouth.

“Love you,” Oikawa murmured.

Hajime’s heart rolled around his chest. He pressed his forehead against Oikawa’s and breathed him in deep. “I love you, too.”

Oikawa hummed happily, nudging in to kiss him again. Hajime slid his hands over Oikawa’s broad shoulders and down his back, where he tucked his fingers into the back of Oikawa’s underwear. 

Oikawa was still grinding on him slowly, almost as if he hadn’t realised he was doing it; Hajime grabbed his hips and pulled him over, shifting Oikawa on top of him.

“Ah—” Oikawa gasped, spreading his hands on Hajime’s chest for balance. He ground his hips down experimentally. “Like this?”

Hajime nodded and lifted his face for another kiss. It felt imperative, like he couldn’t bear _not_ to be touching Oikawa with his mouth. He kept his hands on Oikawa’s hips, feeling them undulate slowly and rocking up to meet them. The pace was achingly slow, but neither of them made a move to hurry it. 

Hajime didn’t expect to come quickly, after the way they’d been unable to keep their hands off each other all day, but it felt like they had barely even started when the pleasure began to build inexorably. He bit his lip and grabbed Oikawa’s hips firmly, stilling his movements. 

“What is it?” Oikawa whispered against his ear. 

“Gonna come,” Hajime murmured.

Oikawa nuzzled his neck and breathed in and out deeply before responding. “Don’t you want to?”

Hajime shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” Oikawa said softly. “But let me move, just a little.” 

Loosening his grip, Hajime felt Oikawa roll his hips again, more slowly than before. 

“This okay?”

“Mm.”

The movement still felt good, but it wasn’t _quite_ hard enough to get him off. Hajime ran his hands up Oikawa’s back slowly, memorising the sensation of his skin, his muscles shifting as the two of them moved together. A part of him was cataloguing it, storing every sensation away for later, when they woke up and he had to leave again. 

Oikawa pressed his face right in against Hajime’s neck, his cheek hot, eyelashes fluttering delicately against Hajime’s skin.

“Hajime,” he moaned quietly, sliding one of his hands up to clutch at Hajime’s hair. “Hah, I can’t believe we never did this before.”

With no reply to give, Hajime pressed his lips against Oikawa’s bare shoulder. He couldn’t see Oikawa’s freckles in the dark, but he knew that they were there, right under his mouth. Oikawa was breathing heavily in his ear, and Hajime could tell that he was getting close as well, despite the slow pace. He parted his lips and bit down on Oikawa’s shoulder, sucking the freckled skin hard. 

Oikawa moaned loudly, his fingers clenching tight in Hajime’s hair. “Haji—” he gasped, hips snapping out of rhythm. “Fuck, Hajime—”

Hajime let go after a moment, looking at the shining wet bruise in the dark. Oikawa was shaking slightly, maybe close to coming. Cradling him tight, Hajime rolled them over on the bed, pinning Oikawa on his back. Oikawa’s legs fell open either side of his hips, and Hajime reached down quickly, tugging at his own underwear. 

“Hajime—”

“You too,” he murmured, catching Oikawa’s eye. “I want to feel you.”

Oikawa’s mouth dropped open for a second, then he nodded and reached down to push at his underwear. Hajime kicked off his own boxers and reached out to help, stripping Oikawa quickly. When they were both naked, Oikawa reached for him, but Hajime shook his head, and pushed Oikawa’s thighs together. 

“Like this,” he murmured, straddling Oikawa’s legs and then using his knees to push them closer together.

When he glanced up, Oikawa was watching him carefully, his expression quiet and eager. Hajime had to look away. He licked his palm a couple of times and then reached down to take hold of himself, rubbing himself with his wet palm, and then fucking down between Oikawa's thighs. 

Oikawa groaned, his voice low and urgent, and his hands clutched at Hajime's hips; his fingertips dug in hard, urging Hajime to move. His thighs clamped together hard; Hajime could feel the faint tremor in his muscles as he struggled to keep them tensed. 

"It's—ah, it's too—too dry," Hajime stammered, still pumping his hips slowly. Oikawa reached back, sliding his hands over Hajime's ass and gripping him tightly. "Tooru—you got anything?"

"Mm," Oikawa hummed, poking the tip of his tongue out, brow furrowed in concentration. 

Hajime lifted one of his hands and flicked Oikawa's shoulder. "Oi."

Oikawa's eyes flicked up to meet his, wide and heavy. "Oh, uh—under the bed," he said, looking to the side. He tried to reach over, and Hajime shifted his weight to let Oikawa move. He rustled something under his bed, coming up moments later with a squeezy bottle. 

Hajime tried to take it, but Oikawa held it out of his reach. "Let me," he murmured, squeezing lube out into his palm, and then reaching down between them to wrap his hands around Hajime's dick. 

"Fuck," Hajime hissed, fingers clenching on Oikawa's hips. "Tooru—"

Oikawa looked up and gave him a dirty smile that was just barely visible in the darkness. "Come on and fuck me already, Iwa-chan."

Hajime nodded eagerly. He knocked Oikawa's hand out of the way and pushed his thighs together again before thrusting between them. They both let out an agonised-sounding groan, and Oikawa reached back to grab Hajime's ass again, one of his hands dry and the other wet and scrabbling at his skin. 

"God," Hajime gasped, bowing his head. "Fuck, Tooru—Tooru, you feel good, so good, ah—" He wedged his knees more tightly against Oikawa's thighs, pushing them together again. 

Oikawa's fingers crept in further, sliding into the cleft between his legs. His fingertips were slippery, sliding over Hajime's skin as he fucked down between Oikawa's thighs. 

"Tooru—" Hajime groaned, unsure whether he meant to encourage Oikawa or warn him off.

Oikawa lifted his head, asking for a kiss. When Hajime leaned down to meet him, Oikawa pressed in more deliberately, letting his fingers skid over Hajime's perineum, and then pushing against his hole. Hajime's breath caught, and he opened his eyes to find Oikawa watching him carefully as he pushed one finger deep inside. 

A wave of dark pleasure rolled through him, making his spine tingle. Hajime screwed his eyes shut and felt a high, broken sound leave his chest; he pumped his hips quickly and shuddered hard as he started to come. He didn't know if he could feel Oikawa's finger moving inside of him or if it was his own involuntary movements, but it added an electric edge to his orgasm. 

"Hajime," Tooru murmured in quiet wonder. 

Hajime reluctantly opened his eyes. His bottom lip hurt where he'd bitten it too hard, and he realised far too late that he'd probably made a mess of Oikawa's sheets. "Hey," he murmured, blinking quickly in an effort to clear the daze from his head. 

Oikawa's gaze roamed over his face, lingering on his mouth before darting up to meet his eyes again. "Hey," Oikawa whispered back.

Hajime glanced down between them with a wince. "Fuck," he muttered, shifting his weight. "Sorry." With limbs like jelly, Hajime clambered off him and collapsed on his back at Oikawa's side.

"Well well," Oikawa said softly after a few moments of comfortable silence. He turned his head and buried his nose in Hajime's hair. "I didn't see that coming."

"Shut up," Hajime sighed, reaching up to cup his hand around the side of Oikawa's neck. 

Oikawa giggled. "Your hand is sticky."

"Yours is probably worse."

There was a brief, shocked silence, and then Oikawa snorted with laughter. "And whose fault is that," he murmured, nuzzling Hajime's ear with his mouth.

"Yours." Hajime opened his eyes. "What the fuck, Oikawa?" he said in a conversational tone. "Who just starts fingering someone without asking?"

"I thought you liked it!"

Hajime's ears burned. "That's not the point."

"I think it _is_ the point," Oikawa murmured, sliding his hands over Hajime's stomach, reaching down between his legs. Hajime groaned when Oikawa's fingers brushed against his balls, making him quiver with overstimulation.

"Oikawa—"

"Did you like it, Hajime?" Oikawa asked in a low voice, pressing in against his perineum again, sending an achy jolt of pleasure through him. "Should I do it again?" The tip of his finger circled Hajime's hole and began to press in slowly. Instinctively, Hajime bent his leg up higher, letting out a shaky moan when Oikawa pressed inside him again. 

"T-Tooru," he gasped, pushing his hand into Oikawa's hair and twisting it between his fingers. 

Oikawa sighed against his ear and rolled over slowly. His dick pressed against Hajime's hip, reminding him that Oikawa hadn't come yet. 

"I could fuck you like this, Hajime," Oikawa growled, his voice shaky and wonderful. He crooked his finger, rubbing against Hajime's prostate. "Have you thought about that?"

Hajime cried out, and quickly jammed his wrist between his teeth to stifle himself. He felt jittery from the overstimulation, wanting it to end while at the same time hoping Oikawa wouldn't stop. 

"You'd have to tell me you wanted it," Oikawa murmured. He kissed the side of Hajime's neck, then withdrew suddenly, pulling his hand away. Hajime let his hips sink back to the bed, but tensed again when he heard the sound of the squeezy bottle of lube. Oikawa leaned over him and kissed him on the mouth, while his hand moved down again. He pushed in again slowly, this time with two fingers, still kissing Hajime even as his mouth went slack with another helpless noise. 

"You're amazing," Oikawa moaned, his voice cracking. He pushed in deep, rolling his fingers around slowly. "I think about it so much." Oikawa pressed his forehead against Hajime's, their hot breath mingling. "God, I want it so badly."

Hajime opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out; he licked his lips and tried again. "Me too."

Oikawa kissed him hard. "Can I?" he gasped against Hajime's lips, the heel of his hand grinding against Hajime's thigh. "Can we try? Please? I'll stop if you tell me to."

"Okay," Hajime whispered, nodding. He second guessed himself almost immediately, but Oikawa was already pulling his hand away and urging Hajime to roll over onto his side. He heard Oikawa rustling under the bed again, and his stomach lurched with trepidation. 

"Have you done this before?" Oikawa whispered, rustling again behind him. 

He was putting on a condom, Hajime realised. Hajime heard the squeezy bottle again and closed his eyes. "No," he said tightly. 

Oikawa let out a nervous little laugh. "Me neither. I hope I won't hurt you."

Hajime gritted his teeth. He wanted to tell Oikawa to stop, but he burned for more at the same time. He'd already proven to himself this weekend that he wasn't any good at saying no to this, that he wanted it despite his reservations. 

Oikawa snuggled up behind him and kissed the back of his neck, one hand resting lightly on his hip. "Iwa-chan," he murmured, nuzzling his nape. "Mm, Hajime—"

The touch made Hajime shiver, but he didn't let himself lean into it. "Just do it," he said, hitching his knees up in front of him. 

"Don't be so impatient," Oikawa said, laughing under his breath. "I told you, it's my first time too." Oikawa's hand passed over his ribs, his touch gentle, moving down to his hip and then his thigh. "Hajime," Oikawa sighed, leaning in to bite at his shoulder. "You're amazing."

"Thanks," Hajime muttered. 

Oikawa hummed against his shoulder, then tightened his grasp on Hajime's thigh. He reached down between them with his other hand, and Hajime felt Oikawa's dick slip against his backside.

"I'm going to put it in," Oikawa whispered

Hajime grunted. "Don't commentate the whole time." He tensed up when Oikawa's fingertips rubbed against his hole, slick with lube. 

Oikawa fumbled between them, shuffling around behind Hajime to get in the right position. Finally, after a little trial and error he nudged the head of his dick up against Hajime's hole and started to push. Hajime's heart jumped into his throat. 

"Hajime," Oikawa murmured, his voice a little strained. "You're too tense, just relax."

"Easy for you to say," Hajime snapped. He turned his face against the pillow and breathed out heavily, trying to make himself let go. Behind him, Oikawa adjusted his grip and pushed harder. 

Pain sliced through him and Hajime drew in a sharp breath. "Stop, stop—"

Oikawa pulled back quickly. "I'm sorry, sorry—are you okay?"

Hajime nodded, but he felt his eyes starting to sting, and he hid his face in the pillow before Oikawa could notice. 

Oikawa's hand ghosted along his side, then curled lightly around his shoulder. "Hey, is it really okay?" He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Do you want to try again?"

Hajime's breath caught again and he forced himself to take a slow, even breath. "Not right now," he mumbled, wiping his face on the pillow before rolling over. "Let's just go to sleep."

"Oh, okay."

Guilt tugged at Hajime's throat, pulling words up from the back of his tongue. "Uh—unless you want me to—" he began awkwardly. "Should I—get you off?"

"That's okay!" Oikawa said quickly. "I'm tired too."

Hajime sighed. "Yeah. I kinda ruined the moment, sorry."

"No no," Oikawa said, reaching out for him. "I didn't mean that, it's okay that we didn't do it."

"You should go clean up," Hajime said, resisting Oikawa's attempts to pull him closer. 

"Mm," Oikawa hummed dismissively. "In a minute. Can I kiss you first?"

Hajime reluctantly turned his head, but he didn't try and reciprocate when Oikawa kissed him softly. 

"Back in a minute."

When Oikawa was gone, Hajime sat up slowly, wincing at the mess on him and the ache between his legs. He got up after a few moments and staggered to the kitchen, where he filled a glass of water and drained it in one go. He felt silly and self-conscious standing naked in Oikawa's kitchen, but he didn't want to put clothes on without cleaning up first. 

Oikawa was still busy in the bathroom, so Hajime grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the tap to wipe himself down. He winced as he cleaned the worst of the sticky mess off the backs of his thighs, then went back to Oikawa's bedroom and pulled on his boxers. 

By the time Oikawa came back, Hajime was in the futon, pretending to be asleep. He heard Oikawa whisper his name a few times, and felt a hand touch his shoulder. Then Oikawa whispered a quick goodnight and climbed into his own bed.

Hajime lay awake for a long time listening to Oikawa's breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave me your thoughts, feelings and frustrations! :3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *raises head*  
> hello...? is this thing still on?
> 
> So I had a dream about this fic a couple of weeks ago, and then a few days ago I saw [this art by phee](https://twitter.com/jocknerdromance/status/1022389726471368707) (NSFW!) and I was finally inspired to move past my writer's block with the final chapter. I'm sorry for the wait. I hope you'll enjoy it :)

It was Wednesday before Oikawa brought up sex again. Hajime had intended to say something, but he'd been so tired when he finally got home that he'd taken a two hour nap, and the rest of his evening had been devoted to the homework he hadn't finished at Oikawa's apartment. Since then, his time had all been eaten up by classes, volleyball and friends, and there just hadn't been a good moment to call Oikawa and say, _Hey, remember all that sex we had? Let's go back to not doing that_. 

_"I wish you had let me suck you off before you left, Iwa-chan,"_ Oikawa whined when they finally talked on the phone a few days later. _"I mean, it might not have been the greatest, but how will I ever improve without any practice?"_

Hajime groaned. "Oikawa—"

_"I've been practicing anyway though, so that's okay. I tried a banana, but even with a condom, the banana smell was too strong. And it was too big, so—"_

"Fuck you," Hajime said half-heartedly. Oikawa didn't even pause. 

_"—I tried a carrot instead, which wasn't really thick enough, but quite good to practice on."_ He sighed. _"It was too hard though, I need to find something softer."_

Hajime let out a long, put-upon sigh. He had an erection, and he was annoyed with himself for getting turned on by the idea of Oikawa attempting to fellate the contents of his fridge. It was difficult to accept that this was just his life now.

_"Iwa-chan?"_

"Mm?"

_"I asked what you think I should try next?"_

Hajime groaned. "What's wrong with a dick? You're so competitive about everything."

Oikawa made a huffy noise. _"I'm not being competitive,"_ he said, his tone making Hajime sit up straight; he hadn't expected Oikawa to actually be offended. _"I'm just trying to be a good boyfriend to you."_

"You can give a lousy blowjob and still be a good boyfriend," Hajime said, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest. 

_"Well maybe this is just how I show my love."_

"By giving blowjobs to salad."

_"By being good in bed!"_

Hajime groaned. "There's more to it than just sex—"

 _"Well maybe I'm not good at the other stuff,"_ Oikawa snapped. _"Isn't that why you've been weird with me all week?"_

Hajime froze, his stomach plunging horribly. "Have I been weird with you?"

 _"Of course you have,"_ Oikawa said crossly. _"Ever since Sunday, you've—"_ He trailed off, and Hajime's stomach quietly imploded, leaving behind a hollow, echoing space. _"No. Since Saturday,"_ Oikawa went on more quietly. _"You've been weird since we had sex that first time."_

"Tooru—"

 _"Why?"_ Oikawa asked, his voice becoming very small. _"Did I do something wrong? Did you—did you not want to?"_

Hajime suddenly couldn't remember how to swallow. "Tooru, no—"

 _"Oh my god,"_ Oikawa hissed. _"Did I make you have sex?"_

"No!" Hajime said loudly. "God, shut up for a minute and let me talk." 

He heard Oikawa exhale loudly, but Hajime didn't let himself become discouraged. But then, as he opened his mouth to speak, he realised that he didn't know how to explain himself.

 _"Iwa-chan?"_ Oikawa prompted after a moment. 

Hajime swallowed. "I did want to," he said in a hesitant voice. "So much, Tooru, really. It was all I could think about the whole time I was around you."

Oikawa was quiet for a moment, then he sighed. _"But?"_

"I guess…" Hajime began, wincing. "I didn't want us to stop being friends." Even as he said it, he knew the words weren't quite right, and Oikawa's disbelieving snort assured him that he hadn't got his point across.

_"You really thought we'd stop being friends if we had sex?"_

"No no," Hajime said, putting his hand over his eyes. "God, I don't know how to say it in a way that doesn't sound terrible."

Oikawa huffed. _"So just say it."_

"Easy for you to say," Hajime muttered. "Alright, I thought—if we hadn't slept together yet, it would be...easier."

"Easier?"

"To—to come back from."

 _"Just tell me what you mean, Iwa-chan, please,"_ Oikawa said in a weary tone.

"If we...break up. It would be easier to go back to being friends. If—if we hadn't had sex." Hajime trailed off, and silence followed his words. He could hear that Oikawa was there, the faint sound of his breathing assuring Hajime that he hadn't yet hung up.

 _"So you—"_ Oikawa began, but cut himself off again quickly. He took a deep breath before continuing. _"So you thought—what? That we'd just never have sex in case we broke up?"_

Hajime started to respond, but Oikawa interrupted. _"Wait, that's not even it. You were actually expecting us to break up."_

Groaning, Hajime dragged his hand over his face. "Not really," he hedged. "Not like—see, I told you it sounds terrible."

 _"Why would you think that?"_ Oikawa asked in a small voice. _"Did I do something wrong?"_

"Tooru, no, I just—one minute you don't like me back, the next we're dating. It seemed like you didn't really think it through."

A horrible silence followed his words. Oikawa's breathing was heavy, audible. Finally, he said, in a very small voice, _"What do you mean?"_

Hajime's eyes were starting to hurt. He squeezed them shut and jammed his knuckle into the corner of his eye socket, kneading at the ache. "I guess—I thought you'd change your mind back again. Realise this was a mistake."

 _"What?"_

"I've liked you for a long time," Hajime said, suddenly feeling the need to defend himself. 

_"So you've mentioned,"_ Oikawa interrupted, the edges of his calm demeanour fraying. _"But you never said anything, how was I supposed to—"_

"Don't be an idiot, Asskawa, that's not what I mean."

 _"Oh, name calling now, are we?"_ Oikawa snapped. _"How mature, Iwa-chan."_

"You're one to talk," Hajime said angrily. "You've had longer relationships with old takeout boxes than with any of your girlfriends."

 _"What are you saying?"_ Oikawa asked, his voice shaking with anger. _"You really thought I'd just—just have my way with you, and then toss you away again?"_

Hajime groaned again. "Tooru—"

_"You think just because I take a chance on something instead of moping around for months—"_

"That's not fair."

_"—means I don't know what I want?"_

"Maybe _I_ don't know what you want."

Oikawa's shocked inhalation resounded between them. Hajime opened and closed his mouth again, realising that he couldn't take it back. He felt sick.

 _"If you don't know that,"_ Oikawa said in a cold voice, _"then you really haven't been paying attention at all."_

"Tooru, come on—"

_"No. Goodnight, Iwa-chan."_

"Tooru—"

Hajime looked at the screen and found that Oikawa had already hung up on him. Cursing loudly, he threw the phone across his bed, wincing when it hit the wall and left a small dent in the plaster. 

"Fucking asshole," he muttered, ignoring his phone and turning over on his bed. 

As he lay there, scowling at the wall, parts of the conversation kept replaying in his mind. Again and again he went over it, hearing the hurt in Oikawa's voice, the dawning horror when he realised Hajime had just been waiting for Oikawa to get tired of him. 

With a groan, Hajime buried his face in his pillow. He'd explained it all in the worst way possible. And he should've known Oikawa would take it badly, no matter how well he phrased things. 

"Augh," Hajime said at last, sitting up and reaching for his phone. To his relief, it didn't seem to be broken despite its collision with the wall. 

Oikawa hadn't texted him. Hajime hadn't really expected him to, but the silence still hurt. He made several attempts at writing a message, but nothing seemed right. After deleting his fifth attempt, Hajime gave up and turned his phone off. 

He missed Oikawa, but more than that he missed the way things used to be. Their places at Seijou had been filled by new players, while his presence on his friends' social media was slowly being overwritten by new people, new friends groups, new interests. 

Hajime longed for it to be just another evening, with school the following morning. He debated calling home, but just the thought of speaking to his parents or his little brother made him feel sick and miserable. Instead he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

 

 

When Hajime woke the next day, Oikawa still hadn't texted him. He was still angry enough not to mind it, and threw himself into practice and classes to avoid thinking about it.

His annoyance at Oikawa died quickly. Oikawa hadn't done anything wrong besides crave intimacy with his boyfriend. Hajime couldn't blame him for that; he'd craved it just as much, even if he'd tried to pretend otherwise. 

When the team were finished in the gym that afternoon, Hajime retrieved his phone and stared at the silent conversation between him and Oikawa. When they first moved away to university, Hajime had tried to put some distance between them. He'd taken more time to respond to Oikawa's messages, deliberately finding other occupation for himself so that he wouldn't be tempted to reply. Hajime had never wanted for friends, but Oikawa had always monopolised him, and Hajime had always capitulated, eager to keep him close. But in making a fresh start, his first time starting a new school without Oikawa, he'd resolved to let things between them cool off. He would slowly withdraw, not so fast that Oikawa would notice, but enough that they would slowly fill the space in each other's lives with other people, enough that he could finally let go of his feelings. 

That had been the plan. Oikawa had always been good at upsetting his best laid plans; the past weekend was just one more example of how helpless Hajime had become in the face of Oikawa's fierce enthusiasm. 

Hajime wished that there was someone he could speak to about it all. Oikawa had never been someone he could go to for problems with his love life, mostly because Oikawa _had_ been the problem with his love life for so long, but there weren't many other people he'd trusted with the secret of his interest in men. He considered texting Matsukawa again; he would be teased, probably, but he might get some solid advice for his troubles. The thought of it didn't appeal to him. He closed the conversation with Oikawa without writing anything, and opened instagram instead. Oikawa had posted several pictures that week, including one that day. It was a picture of him and some of his friends—teammates?—eating lunch in a restaurant. Hajime didn't recognise the place. 

Oikawa's silence continued for the rest of the day. Hajime tried to ignore his phone, leaving it muted in his bag, but he found himself checking it more and more often as he tried and failed to study that afternoon. Eventually, he turned it off and went to bed, where he lay awake for a long time, tormented by memories of the heat and sweat of Oikawa's body in motion, and the growing conviction that he'd ruined things between them forever. 

At three AM he wrote and deleted a message several times, before finally sending it.

hajime: I'm sorry

 

 

When he woke the next day, worn thin from worry and lack of sleep, his phone was still silent. Hajime dressed and jogged to practice, though he soon wished he'd stayed in bed. His times were slow, his reflexes fuzzy, but to his relief, his coach was distracted and didn't comment. His poor display couldn't escape everyone's notice, however, and Fukuhara approached him as practice was drawing to an end. 

"Captain," Hajime said, forcing himself to push through the exhaustion and stand up straight. 

"You okay, Iwaizumi-kun?" Fukuhara asked in a low voice, putting an arm around his shoulders and leading him away from the others. Fukuhara had a warm, easy smile, more approachable than the other third years. He jostled Hajime, laughing good-naturedly. "You played like shit today."

Hajime grimaced. "I know. Sorry about that."

"Forget it," Fukuhara said, waving a hand. "I'm not after an apology, I want to know if you're alright." He stepped back and gave Hajime a slow, considering look. "An injury? Hangover?"

"No," Hajime said, shaking his head quickly. "Nothing like that."

"I don't care if you have a drink, as long as it doesn't affect your game."

"I don't drink," Hajime said, shaking his head again. "Just...haven't slept much this week. It's not good enough, I know. I'll do better."

Fukuhara nodded. "Go easy on yourself, okay?" He smiled encouragingly. "I know you want to prove yourself, but Coach knows you're a good player. You killed it in that match last week."

Hajime gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of the match they'd played against Oikawa's team. "Thank you, senpai," he said, belatedly remembering his manners. 

Leaving practice, Hajime checked his phone and found it still devoid of messages. There was no way that Oikawa wasn't up by now, which meant his silence was deliberate. Hajime was reminded of a time in their first year at Seijou. Intimidated by his new school, terrified that someone would find out that he was gay, Hajime had accepted the confession of a girl on the soccer team. They had only dated for five days, during which time they held hands exactly once, and shared a very awkward half hour at a café near the school. 

Oikawa hadn't spoken to him from the moment he accepted the confession to the day after Hajime broke up with her, at which point he swanned back into Hajime's life as if he'd never been gone. _He's jealous_ , Hajime's mother had told him, when he ranted about Oikawa's determined silence over those five long days. _Tooru's just used to having you all to himself._

Hajime hadn't really understood, not until later that year when Oikawa got a girlfriend of his own. That was the first time he'd known what it was to long for his best friend. 

Heading home, Hajime exchanged his practice gear for his books. He sat through class, dazed, one eye on his phone. He dragged himself to the gym, and was turned away, kindly, by Fukuhara. Lost, Hajime walked home again. 

His apartment stifled him, weighing down like a stone around his neck. Everywhere were reminders of Oikawa: a pair of socks he'd forgotten, that Hajime had washed for him; a postcard Oikawa had sent from an away trip with his team; a book Hajime had borrowed; one of Oikawa's favourite DVDs; a half eaten bar of chocolate Oikawa had bought him. It was becoming hard to breathe. Hajime went to his bed, and saw the dent his phone had made in the wall two nights earlier, and the rumpled sheets that only reminded him of last weekend. 

In a moment of decisiveness, Hajime picked up his backpack and emptied it on the bed. One of his textbooks bounced onto the floor, but he ignored it. He grabbed some clean underwear out of a drawer, his phone charger, a clean t-shirt. In minutes, he was on his way to the station. There was a train forty minutes away that would take him back to Miyagi. His fingers clenched and unclenched around the strap of his bag as he stood waiting on the subway platform. 

His parents weren't expecting him, and the house was empty when Hajime finally reached home, having taken the bus from Sendai, and then walked the final two miles to his house. He made himself a sandwich, suddenly ravenous, then went up to his room. 

He was, suddenly, impossibly tired, but when he reached his room he found his futon missing, and remembered belatedly his mother mentioning that she was going to have all the spare futons cleaned. Sighing, Hajime dropped his backpack and went into Chiaki's room instead. His brother's bed was unmade, the covers flung wide with his pyjamas tangled amongst them, and an ancient cuddly dinosaur tucked halfway under the pillow. Hajime shrugged off his jeans and hoodie and crawled in, curling himself around the dinosaur toy and waiting for sleep to come.

 

 

Hajime was woken later by the sound of voices; his mother calling up the stairs when she recognised his shoes in the genkan, and then Chiaki thundering up to his room. He went to Hajime's room first, calling out to him. Hajime wanted to sit up and greet him, but he didn't seem able to move. He lay on his side, staring at the wall, with Chiaki's warm covers pulled up to his chin.

Finally, Chiaki's door slammed back in the frame. "Nii-chan!" Chiaki shouted. And then, more quietly, "Oh, are you sick?"

Hajime grunted and pushed himself up on one elbow. "Hey, kiddo," he said, offering up a tired smile. "Sorry for stealing your bed."

Chiaki shrugged, toeing at the floor uncertainly. It was several months since they had seen one another, and Hajime realised with a start that Chiaki was shy of him. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and held out his arms. "Don't I get a hug?"

Nodding, Chiaki's shyness melted into a grin and he threw himself into Hajime's arms, bowling him over so that he landed flat on his back. 

"Oof—you're getting big."

"How long are you home for?" Chiaki demanded, sitting up once he'd thoroughly squashed all the air out of Hajime's chest. He smelled strongly of chlorine, and his hair was still damp, having just come from his weekly swimming lesson. "For the whole weekend? Can we play volleyball with Take-chan? Is Tooru here too?"

Hajime gritted his teeth. "I—I dunno," he mumbled, attacking Chiaki's first question. His eyes were burning. 

"Did you run away from school?"

Hajime laughed wetly. "Sort of."

"That's so cool!"

"Hajime?"

Both boys looked up. Hajime's mother stood in the doorway to Chiaki's room, her brow creased. "What're you doing home?"

"Hey, Mom," Hajime said, swallowing down the burning in his throat. "Sorry I didn't tell you I was coming. I just kind of...felt like being home."

Her frown deepened, but then she glanced at Chiaki and her expression cleared. "Alright then, wash your hands and come help me with dinner. Chiakkun, bath time."

Chiaki's face fell. "But I wanna talk to Hajime—"

"Now, Chiaki," she said sharply, standing back and gesturing to him to hurry.

With an exaggerated sigh, Chiaki got up and stomped over to the door. He paused on the threshold to glance back at Hajime. "Nii-chan, can we watch a movie later?"

Hajime smiled weakly. "Sure, kiddo."

Chiaki disappeared along the hallway with a whoop, then the bathroom door slammed behind him. Hajime grinned to himself, but the weight of his mother's gaze was heavy, and Hajime swallowed and looked down at the sheets, aware that he was going to be interrogated, and that in some ways this had probably been the worst place to come if he wanted to escape Oikawa's shadow.

His mother slid the door closed behind her quietly, then crouched down beside him. "Are you ill?" she asked softly, reaching out to brush his hair back from his forehead.

Hajime gave a minute shake of his head. His voice had failed him.

"Did something happen?"

A pause, while Hajime bit back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him, before he finally nodded. 

His mother edged closer, and her hand settled on his shoulder. "With uni?" Hajime shook his head. "Volleyball?" Again, a shake. There was a long pause before his mother spoke again. "...Tooru?"

The tears that he had held back after the fight, that he'd been pushing down since Saturday night, finally overcame him. Hajime shuddered, and his mother's arms came around him as he began to sob uncontrollably. He was wretched, his face creasing and his throat burning. His hands came up reflexively to clutch at the arms holding him, and he didn't resist when his mother turned his face into her shoulder to hold him, his tears dampening the stiff cotton of her uniform. From the bathroom, the sound of Chiaki singing to himself in the bath was audible, making the scene and his misery seem ridiculous. His mother just held him, stroking his back slowly and soothing him in a low voice.

They broke apart finally, and Hajime wiped a long, quivering trail of snot on the shoulder of his t-shirt. "Sorry," he mumbled, wiping his eyes with a corner of Chiaki's sheets. "Sorry, I—"

"You love him."

Hajime froze. He hadn't yet found the courage to tell any of his family that he was gay, though he'd suspected for a while that his mother had guessed. His feelings for Oikawa, however, weren't something he'd ever expected to give up. 

"It's alright," his mother said softly, before he could confirm or deny the accusation. "You don't have to tell me."

Tears choked him again. "I do," he said, the words barely intelligible. "We—we're—" He groaned, covering his face. "But I m-messed it u-up, and—hn now—n-now he w-won't—wont t-talk t-t-to—"

"Shhh," she whispered, pulling him into another tight embrace. Hajime clutched at her uniform, his sobs louder now, torn from him in hot, wet rushes of breath. She held him close, and patted his back slowly like you might comfort a crying baby. Finally, there was the splash of Chiaki getting out of the bath, and Hajime's sobs had quieted. He pulled his t-shirt up to dry his face, and watched his mother get to her feet. 

"Wash your face and help me make dinner," she murmured, bending over to brush his hair back from his face. "Then we'll all curl up and watch a movie, alright?"

Hajime bit his cheek to keep his face steady. He nodded. "Alright."

"And in the meantime we'd better find you somewhere to sleep," she said, laughing.

A little sheepish, Hajime nodded.

Crying had helped, but in the aftermath, a relentless sadness filled the hollow space left behind. He longed for Oikawa with every fibre of his being, but did his best to put it aside and focus instead on his family, allowing himself to be buoyed up by his mother's kind watchfulness and brisk orders while they prepared dinner, and by Chiaki's enthusiasm to have him home. His father arrived later, expressing surprise to see him, but otherwise taking no more notice of the situation. 

After dinner, Hajime was so tired of pretending to be okay that all he wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep, but Chiaki was insistent on watching a movie, so Hajime allowed himself to be dragged to the couch, and sat indifferently while Chiaki put on a DVD before cuddling up to him. Ten minutes in, Hajime realised his mistake. Chiaki had chosen to watch the same film that Oikawa had left at his apartment, one of his favourites, that he and Hajime had watched together only a few weeks earlier. 

When Hajime started to sniff, Chiaki looked up at him in horror. "Nii-chan," he asked in a stage whisper, sitting up. "What's wrong?"

Hajime shook his head. "Nothing," he mumbled, wiping his face on his sleeve. "Let's just watch the movie."

Chiaki settled against him once more, but Hajime couldn't stop thinking about his fight with Oikawa, replaying it over and over in his head the way he had over the previous two nights. He and Oikawa had always fought, rarely seriously, and usually quick to heal. Oikawa wasn't good at apologising, but he usually had no trouble accepting an apology from Hajime. His continued silence made Hajime sick with fear, and he pulled Chiaki closer, cuddling him tightly in an effort to block out the certainty that he'd ruined things permanently. 

"Nii-chan," Chiaki complained eventually, wriggling in his tight grasp. "You're hurting."

"Sorry," Hajime said, releasing him. 

Chiaki huffed, annoyed, and then he got up from the couch and scampered out of the room. Hajime slumped deeper into the couch cushions, finding that he lacked the will to get up and pause the movie, or turn it off. But moments later, Chiaki thundered down the stairs once more, holding a bundle in his arms that comprised the covers from his bed. He shook them out, and then flung them over Hajime, covering him like a tablecloth over a dinner table. 

"There," Chiaki said proudly, admiring his handiwork for a moment before rejoining him on the couch. "Don't be sad."

Hajime looked down at himself, then at his brother, whose wide green eyes were already enraptured by the movie again. He smiled, and wrapped his arm around Chiaki once more, pressing his face into hair that was soft and sweet-smelling from his bath.

"Thanks, little bear," he murmured, hugging Chiaki tightly.

Chiaki nodded and hugged him back. "I don't like it when you're sad," he said. "You shouldn't fight with Tooru."

Hajime swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I know."

"Make up with him," Chiaki instructed, in a tone that was eerily reminiscent of their mother.

"I'll try."

 

 

Hajime went back to university on Sunday afternoon. He knew that he'd disappointed Chiaki by being miserable and lethargic all weekend, but he'd finally gotten some sleep at least. 

Back in his apartment, he tidied slowly, then took his clothes down to the laundry room and sat, scrolling through his conversation with Oikawa on his phone. 

oikawa: what would you do if there were two of me?  
hajime: probably kill myself  
oikawa: iwa-chan!!! (；￣Д￣)  
hajime: why what would you do  
oikawa: (*/▽＼*)  
hajime: omfg

Hajime laughed, and then winced, and turned his phone off. It was easier not to have the constant temptation to check it, to entertain the possibility that Oikawa might have texted him, rather than the certainty that he hadn't. After an hour, he turned it on again and, after a long internal struggle, called Oikawa's number. It rang off. He tried again. Again, there was no answer. Hajime threw his phone on the floor of the laundry room, and this time his phone did break, pieces of plastic scattering. He swore, and picked them up. His parents would kill him when he told them. 

In a way it was a relief. Unable to check his messages the following day, he forced himself to focus on other things. He worked hard in practice, and focused in class. After his lectures, he went to the library with some classmates, and then on to afternoon practice.

As he was leaving the gym later, he stepped out of the changing rooms and saw Oikawa. 

Hajime began to walk, before freezing in place, his mind catching up to what he'd seen. His heart hammered in his chest. Oikawa was sitting on a bench across the street, frowning down at his phone. He was in exactly the same place he had waited that first time he came to visit, when he'd begged Hajime to be his boyfriend. Something about the familiarity of the scene made Hajime's heart race and his palms sweat. He knew, somehow, instinct making him certain, that things had come full circle. Oikawa was here to break up with him.

Hajime swallowed, trying to gather the courage to walk over to him. Perhaps if he didn't, if he simply turned and ran, or hid in the changing room for an hour or two, Oikawa would go away. Hajime could be the one to leave his phone unanswered for days. Oikawa couldn't dump him if Hajime refused to talk to him.

The absurd thoughts rushed through him like flour through a sieve, leaving only a faint residue of their unpleasantness behind. And then, before he could act on any of them, Oikawa looked up.

Their eyes met, and Hajime watched Oikawa's lips form his name, though he was too far away to hear it. They stared at one another for several moments, then Oikawa jumped to his feet suddenly and swung his backpack over his shoulder. As if a curse had been lifted, Hajime found himself able to move again, and he strode off in the direction of his apartment, knowing that Oikawa would catch him in no time.

Sure enough, he had only gone a hundred metres when Oikawa jogged up behind him.

"Iwa-chan, hey—Iwa, wait—"

Hajime looked over his shoulder, but didn't stop walking. "You didn't need to come all this way," he said in a gruff voice. "A phone call would've been fine," he added, forgetting for a moment that he'd broken his phone.

Oikawa looked hurt. "I did try to call you. I wanted to see you though." The line of his mouth hardened. "And I thought—we should talk about it in person."

Hajime's gut solidified in a tight little ball. "Yeah," he muttered, turning his eyes forward again. "Fine."

They walked back to his apartment in an uncomfortable silence. The lack of even Oikawa's usual banal chatter set Hajime's teeth on edge, and by the time he unlocked the door to his tiny apartment, he was almost shaking with suppressed tension.

"I'm gonna change," he said, wanting to get out of his practice gear. "Make yourself some tea or something."

Hajime turned away to grab his towel and a set of clothes, and heard Oikawa inhale quickly, as though he wanted to speak, but was holding it back. Hajime glanced over his shoulder. "What is it?"

Oikawa turned his head away. In a very quiet voice he asked, "Are you going to break up with me?"

Hajime looked at him in amazement. "What?" he croaked. He watched the bob of Oikawa's throat as he swallowed, still refusing to meet Hajime's eyes. "Tooru," Hajime said, voice wavering. "Why would you ask that?"

Oikawa glanced at him and away again. "Well," he said, wringing his hands together. "You don't exactly seem happy to see me."

The sight of Oikawa hanging his head, shoulders slumped, made Hajime want to grab hold of him and never let him go. "But," he said, frowning, "you came here to break up with me, didn't you?" The hopeful edge to his own voice made him feel a little sick.

" _What_?" Oikawa said, looking at him with wide eyes. "No! Why would you think that?"

"You've been ignoring me all week!" Hajime protested. "What was I supposed to think?"

Oikawa groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. "Okay. Maybe we should start again."

"Start again?"

"The conversation."

"Oh, yeah." Hajime shifted his weight; he was still holding his towel, and he could smell that he needed to change out of his practice gear, but he didn't want to walk away in the middle of the conversation. "Uh, I really need to shower."

Oikawa's eyes widened. "Oh! Yes, sorry, go ahead. I can entertain myself."

The smile Hajime gave him in return was awkward, he could feel it. "This sounds so sleazy, but uh—you can come too, if you want. We don't have to—do anything, but—"

"Okay," Oikawa said, his smile just as awkward. "Although if this is your way of telling me I stink—"

"You stink," Hajime said with a deadpan expression.

Oikawa laughed. "Take a whiff of yourself before you throw stones, Iwa-chan."

They made it to the bathroom, still bickering back and forth, but Oikawa fell silent when Hajime closed the door behind them. Swallowing hard, Hajime reached over his head and pulled off his t-shirt before turning around.

"Tooru?"

Oikawa closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around himself. "I'm...sorry, for ignoring you."

Hajime's mouth tightened. "It really hurt."

"I know. I think—I wanted it to hurt." 

"Well," Hajime said, clenching his shirt tightly between his hands. "Congratulations."

Oikawa opened his eyes, meeting Hajime's eyes briefly. "I—was really hurt when you said you didn't trust me," he said, looking down at his hands.

"I didn't say that—"

"I know, I know." Oikawa waved his hands, frowning. "It just—it _felt_ like you didn't. Trust me."

"I'm sorry." Hajime winced and reached out, taking Oikawa's hands in his own. "God, Oikawa, I'm sorry."

Oikawa gave him a sad smile. "Me too." He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. "I don't like it, but I can see why you thought I wouldn't take this as seriously as you."

"That was unfair of me."

"No," Oikawa said, laughing bitterly. "It wasn't, it's okay. Don't be nice to me when I don't deserve it."

Swallowing his nerves, Hajime reached up and brushed Oikawa's hair off his forehead. "Tooru," he murmured, leaning in. "That way I'd _never_ be nice to you."

Oikawa let out a surprised laugh and knocked Hajime's hand away. "Very funny, nasty-chan," he said with an exaggerated pout.

Hajime grinned and reached for him again, cupping Oikawa's cheek before leaning in to kiss him softly. "Is that okay?" he whispered, hesitating a breath away.

Oikawa's eyes had fluttered shut. "I think so." 

They kissed softly at first, but it quickly grew heated. Hajime's fingers scrambled at Oikawa's sweater, and they separated just long enough for Oikawa to throw it to the floor before they rushed back in, grasping and touching and kissing as though they hadn't seen one another in months. 

"I'm sorry," Oikawa murmured, his lips humming against Hajime's cheek. "I'm so sorry, please don't leave me—"

Hajime groaned, clenching his fingers in Oikawa's hair and holding him close, their foreheads pressed together. "Tooru," he sighed, closing his eyes tightly, feeling Oikawa by touch, by smell, committing him to memory the way he had a hundred times before. There were things he wanted—needed—to say. They wouldn't come. He would find the words for them later. In that moment, all he could think of was getting closer, eliminating the space between them until they were one body. Unable to speak, he cradled Oikawa's head, pressed his fingers behind his ears, and tilted him into another ravenous kiss. 

Clumsily, they pulled each other out of the remainder of their clothes, and moved into the shower together, tripping and stumbling over one another's feet. Oikawa yelped when his back hit the cold tiles, and Hajime fumbled out to turn the water on without looking, without taking his mouth away from Oikawa's. Cold water crashed against his left side and he inhaled sharply, then they both started to laugh, clinging to one another as the spray slowly heated up. They kissed again lazily, then with more fervour, shifting against each other with slow, hazy movements, hands roaming. 

"Is this—okay?" Oikawa gasped, as heat began to build between them. "The other night, you said—"

"It's okay," Hajime murmured, stroking his thumb along Oikawa's jaw. He moved his hand between them, sliding it down Oikawa's chest, then taking hold of his cock.

Oikawa shuddered, his fingers clenching around Hajime's shoulders. "O-oh, H-Hajime—"

Hajime grinned, watching a blush spread over Oikawa's face and chest. He loved the slick velvet of Oikawa's hot skin, the way it quivered between his fingers, a heartbeat in his hand. He felt powerful, the way he could give pleasure with the merest shift of his fingers. Oikawa tipped his head back against the wall, strands of damp hair sticking to the wet tile, his throat exposed. Hajime wanted him so much that he ached in his chest, that his hands shook with it. Releasing his grip on Oikawa's dick, he lined himself up against Oikawa's hip and then began to thrust against him, grinding their hips together slowly. Oikawa's erection was hot and slippery against his stomach, a sensation that Hajime already couldn't get enough of. 

It was over quickly between them, no more than a minute or two before they painted each other's stomachs, clinging tightly while their sighs and moans filled the small bathroom. 

"Ohh," Oikawa sighed when it was over, cradling the back of Hajime's head with one of his hands. He slid the other up, kissing the side of Hajime's neck, and then his jaw, and then cupping his face between both hands and drawing him into a slow, forceful kiss. Oikawa's tongue plunged into his mouth and Hajime could only moan, weak-kneed and powerless to resist his thrall. He felt a little as though he would fall down without Oikawa holding him up.

After several minutes they came back to themselves, still kissing, still touching, but capable of speech. Oikawa turned awkwardly, and picked up the soap with still-shaking hands. Working it into a lather, he pulled Hajime close to him again and began to run the soap over his body. His hands moved reverently; over his pectorals, pausing to thumb at a nipple and causing it to pucker and stiffen; lifting an arm gently to wash underneath, fingers combing through the fine dark hair that was stiff with sweat and antiperspirant; cupping his balls, and then his oversensitive cock, so that Hajime shook and dug his nails deep into Oikawa's arms. After a pause, Oikawa put an arm around his waist to pull him closer, and then reached down between Hajime's thighs, pushing soapy fingers between his buttocks, touching him there very, very gently. 

"C-careful," Hajime whispered, remembering, unpleasantly, the miserable turn things had taken the last time Oikawa touched him there. 

"Sorry," Oikawa whispered, his lips soft against Hajime's ear. "I won't do anything. Just being thorough."

Hajime snorted. "Can I return the favour?"

"To wash me," Oikawa asked, amused, "or stick your fingers up my ass?"

"Either." Hajime laughed under his breath. "Both."

"Mm. Be my guest."

Hajime took the soap from him and started to wash Oikawa the same way. It was, he realised, an excuse to touch, as much as anything else. Before last weekend, they had always cut things off before they went too far, limited to brief touches and glimpses. And then things had unfolded so quickly, so uncontrollably, Hajime hadn't really had much chance to explore. He reveled in it now, spreading his hands across Oikawa's broad, powerful shoulders, wrapping them around the meat of his thigh, touching the taut planes of his stomach. And then, following Oikawa's suggestion, he soaped up his hand again and trailed his fingertips down the length of Oikawa's spine. He slowed at Oikawa's lower back, savouring the curve of his spine to his tailbone. He reached around with his other hand, gripping Oikawa's right buttock, spreading him wide and enjoying the way he gasped softly. 

"Still want me to—?"

"Nn," Oikawa groaned, clutching at Hajime. "Just—do it."

Hajime laughed breathlessly, and then he did, stroking in with the tips of his fingers the same way that Oikawa had. He found the smooth patch of skin below Oikawa's tailbone, and felt where the skin puckered and drew tight. Hajime stroked it with a fingertip, and swallowed hard when Oikawa's hole twitched under his touch. He kept his fingers light, rubbing back and forth, and then he reached down, nudging the sensitive skin behind Oikawa's balls. 

Oikawa's knees buckled, but he caught himself on Hajime's arms, locking his legs to stop himself crashing to the floor. 

Hajime raised an eyebrow at him. "That good?" 

Oikawa laughed weakly. "Is that all you've got?"

Raising an eyebrow at him, Hajime hauled Oikawa upright again and spread him open once more. This time, he didn't stop when he met the twist of resistance at Oikawa's entrance; he rubbed back and forth with a fingertip, slowly increasing the pressure, and then he pushed _in_.

A shocked breath punched out of Oikawa's chest. His hands scrabbled for purchase on Hajime's shoulders. "D-don't—stop—"

Hajime pushed in slowly, to the second knuckle. He withdrew, and pushed back in again. The soap wasn't slippery enough, but the heat and the unfamiliar sensation clamoured for him to continue. 

"Feel okay?" he whispered.

"Feels—weird," Oikawa gritted out. "No wonder you had to stop."

Reluctantly, Hajime withdrew his finger. "Maybe we should do this another time."

Oikawa laughed. "Maybe we should get out, we must have been in here hours." 

Hajime agreed; the slide of Oikawa's wet, soapy skin was wonderful, but he longed to take Oikawa to bed, to tangle their limbs together and hold him close and warm. He turned off the water, and they climbed out of the shower, reaching for towels and kicking aside the clothes they'd dropped in the middle of the floor. 

It took them a long time to get from the bathroom to his bed. They were too distracted by each other to hurry, and it wasn't until several minutes had passed and Oikawa began to shiver, that Hajime detached his mouth from Oikawa's jaw and pushed him in the direction of the bed. 

"I missed you, Iwa-chan," Oikawa muttered once they were settled, pulling him close.

Hajime buried his face in Oikawa's shoulder. "Don't call me that."

Oikawa sighed. "I missed you, _Hajime_."

"Better."

"I'm sorry for ignoring you," Oikawa said softly. "I didn't mean to, I just needed to think, I'm sorry I made it seem like—" 

"Don't," Hajime murmured, pressing his fingertips to Oikawa's lips. "I'm the one who fucked up, I didn't mean to make you think I was—" He trailed off, frowning. "I never…expected this. Us." He hid his face again. "I didn't think I was good enough for you." 

Oikawa let out a shocked exhalation, and he wrapped his arms tightly around Hajime's chest. "Oh, Hajime," he murmured. "You stupid, stupid—how could you _think_ that? I'm the one that doesn't deserve you." 

Hajime laughed wetly, his eyes stinging, and clung to Oikawa more tightly. The solid heat and shape of Oikawa's body against his was a relief, filling the empty spaces inside him, satisfying the longing that went right down to his bones. Oikawa's fingers moved over his damp skin, caressing, exploring. 

"Last week," Oikawa murmured. "When we were—" 

Hajime lifted his head, and Oikawa looked away, blushing. "What is it?" 

"You said you love me," Oikawa mumbled. "Do you really?" 

Heat overtook Hajime's face, a desire filling him that had nothing to do with the tangle of their limbs, or the post-coital haze that still lay upon them; he simply desired the thrill of Oikawa's gaze on him, the dizzying focus of his attentions, the certainty of him there, at the right moment, poised to send Hajime precisely what he needed to overcome anything. 

"You said it too," Hajime whispered, finding Oikawa's hand, linking their fingers together. And then, at the faint crease in Oikawa's brow, the tinge of embarrassed indignation that warmed Oikawa's cheeks, he laughed. "I do. Of course I do." 

Oikawa's face relaxed. "Good," he sighed. He pressed Hajime's hand against his cheek. "I love you, Hajime." 

Hajime's face flushed deeper, and Oikawa saw it and laughed at him. 

"Shut up," said Hajime, with a look that said, _I know where you're ticklish_ , a hand hovering above Oikawa's hip to emphasise his point. 

_I know_ , said Oikawa's dangerous smile. "Make me." 

They knew each other too well, were too evenly matched, so that any attempt at subduing the other could only end in violence. Or, thought Hajime, as he pinned a squealing Oikawa to his bed and used to hips to press his advantage, maybe not, anymore. Their movements shifted, only slightly, from wrestling for dominance to chasing pleasure; hands grasping, voices wanton. Hajime wanted him desperately: below him, inside him, any way he could have him. 

Oikawa rolled him over, pinning him to the bed. His hands found Hajime's wrists, and elastic twanged in Hajime's chest when Oikawa used his weight to hold his arms above his head. 

"Don't move," Oikawa said in a low, commanding voice, one that Hajime knew from the court. He'd never dared to imagine it applied in this setting, and his stomach turned molten at the sound of it, a pleasant tremor passing over him as he submitted. Certain that he would comply, Oikawa lowered his head. 

Hajime's stomach lurched, recalling the conversation that had sparked their fight a week earlier. "Tooru—" 

"Don't move," Oikawa said again, looking up at him through lowered lashes. He pressed his hand against Hajime's stomach, and then slid it down and took hold of his cock, a circle of his fingers around the base. 

A groan tore from Hajime's throat, in anticipation more than anything. Oikawa's mouth parted. His lips were red, his tongue more so. Closing his eyes, he tongued the head of Hajime's cock slowly, as though savouring a new flavour. He licked it, teasing slowly, and then he took it in his mouth. 

Hajime couldn't breathe. There was still a hint of the clumsy uncertainty of last time, but Oikawa was more sure of himself, taking his time instead of rushing. After several moments, Oikawa looked up again, his dark eyes liquid, seeking approval. 

"Feels good," Hajime croaked, finding a shred of his voice.

A soft hum of pleasure answered him, and Oikawa smiled around his mouthful, before applying himself again, bobbing his head up and down, and then withdrawing, teasing once more. 

Moaning softly, Hajime shifted against the bed, hips moving. He realised that his arms were still above his head, that he was gripping his pillow reflexively. He couldn't seem to make himself let go. 

"Tooru," he managed, and bit his lip sharply, fearing what else might spill out. 

Oikawa didn't let himself be hurried. He moved with slow determination, taking Hajime as deep as he could, and then pulling back to tease the ridged skin, then sucking on him slowly. 

Hajime's orgasm came over him without warning, a sudden crescendo, his back curving, drawing him in like a dying insect, pleasure singing through his limbs. Oikawa worked him through it, swallowing hard, eyes closed tightly. Hajime fell back at last, his spasms passing. He panted, and heard Oikawa wipe his face and cough. 

"Sorry," Hajime gasped, cracking an eye open. 

Oikawa grinned and crawled over him, flopping down between Hajime's legs, chin resting on his chest. "Marks out of ten?" Oikawa purred, looking smugly up at him. 

Hajime rolled his eyes. "And you say you're not competitive." 

"Only with myself," Oikawa replied, sharp-eyed, but still smiling indulgently. He spider walked his fingers up the center of Hajime's chest. "Come on," he wheedled. "Indulge me."

"Hm," Hajime hummed, pretending to consider. "Four out of ten. Solid effort."

Oikawa coloured. "Let me try again."

Hajime laughed. "No way, I need some recovery time first."

"Alright," Oikawa sighed, lowering his head. "Thirty minutes."

"You're the worst," Hajime said affectionately, bringing his hands up to cradle Oikawa's head, stroking through his damp hair. With a sigh, Oikawa nuzzled against his chest, and Hajime smiled. "Want me to get you off?"

Oikawa shook his head minutely. "In a bit."

"Sure."

As he watched, Oikawa's brow crumpled, a decision warring on his face. Finally he pushed himself up and took a deep breath, before saying, "I'm sorry that I—I think I rushed you into—doing it, before."

Hajime rolled his eyes. "Tooru, for the last time, I wanted to do it. What, you think I sucked you off in the shower last week because I hated it?"

Oikawa flushed, which was unexpected, but satisfying nonetheless. "No, Iwa-chan," he said, with a trace of his usual prissiness. "But I wasn't talking about that."

"What then?"

"I was talking about—when we had _sex_. When I— _you know_." 

Hajime groaned loudly. "Tooru, if you can't say the word 'anal', we're never doing it again."

Oikawa huffed. "I can say it," he snapped. "Fine, look, I've been doing some...reading. And I'm sorry I rushed you." He gave Hajime a flat look. "I'm sorry I rushed the _anal_."

"You're really that worried about it?" Hajime asked, watching him closely.

"I could have really hurt you!" 

"Well, you didn't."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

Hajime groaned. He ran his hands over his face, reconciling himself to a world where he and Oikawa talked about anal sex. Where they might, eventually, manage to do it together. He shuddered, a pleasant mixture of aftershock and anticipation, and let his hands fall to his sides. "Maybe I haven't made this clear enough yet," he said, with a nervous rolling in his chest, "but I'm not in this for a quick fuck. If it takes us a few tries to get it right—fuck, if it takes us _fifty_ tries, that's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

Oikawa wrinkled his nose. "It better not take fifty tries."

Hajime snorted. "Yeah."

"You really mean it?" Oikawa murmured, reaching for him. 

"Don't be an idiot," Hajime said, pulling Oikawa into his arms. Feeling unusually good-tempered, he kissed Oikawa softly, then nuzzled the tips of their noses together. "You're my shitty boyfriend," he teased, voice warm. "I'm not giving you up that easily."

"Good," Oikawa sighed, relaxing against him with a pleased grin. "Mama said you went home over the weekend. Was that because of me?"

"It was because of lots of things," Hajime hedged. 

Oikawa hummed. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'm glad you got to see Chiaki-chan though, he must miss you terribly."

"I—yeah," Hajime muttered, heart clenching. "I miss him too."

"I can't wait to go home for New Year," Oikawa murmured, cuddling closer. "Let's take Chiaki and Take-chan to the festival."

"Pretty sure that's compulsory," Hajime said, grinning at the thought. "But…yeah, I'd like that."

Oikawa made a contented sound and squeezed him tightly. "Then it's settled. And make sure you're free for Christmas, too. I've got plans for you."

Hajime laughed. "You're so bossy."

"Now you're getting the idea."

Hajime thought of the scant days left until Christmas, then New Year, and how before he knew it the new school year would be upon them, then Golden Week and Chiaki's eleventh birthday, then summer would bring his own birthday, and Oikawa's—the months stretched out ahead, long and intangible, and all of it golden-tinged at the thought of spending it with Oikawa. 

"I can't wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your love and support :3

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/notallbees) | [my iwaoi fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=1329922&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&fandom_id=758208&user_id=notallbees)


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